Chapter Two: Reconciliation

[Malok]

The Black Dahlia, Nar Shaddaa

In the wake of victory, one must then deal with damages. No war is immaculate. No shedding of blood is ever free of debris. Like every conflict in the weave of history, the victors of Geonosis had to tend to their newly acquired gains. For the most part, this revolved around correcting the grievous atrocities wrought by the Rebel Alliance. However, other details required attention as well...such as repairing burnt bridges. In particular, Darth Metus found himself in hot water following the battle. Not with his fellows on the Executive Council, of course, but rather...with his own daughter.

Out of nowhere she appeared on the battlefield, intent upon fighting and giving her sire undue stress. In the heat of the moment, the Sith Lord acted as quickly as he could; for what sire would ever want their child exposed to an active battleground? He shut down her attempt to prove her worth and shoved her into a drop pod. There she was safe. There she was immune from the battle that raged all about. There...she stewed. When the dust finally settled, she did not say a word to Darth Metus at all. [member="Deneve"] simply...poofed.

The Sith Lord had little idea of where she could have gone, but he initially recognised her need for space. After all, she was an adult...a very annoyed adult...so he wasn't going to sit there and track her down immediately. However, concern wormed its way into the pit of his stomach when days of silence turned into weeks. Even at the most strained points in their relationship, Deneve at least let her old man know she was alive. This was simply not like the fiery woman he had come to adore.

As such, Darth Metus went hunting.

With several resources at his disposal, namely a reforged connection with the SpyNet, he was able to track down his wayward child in a matter of days. Her last sighting was...both expected and unexpected. She had been taking up residence at the Black Dahlia: a seedly little joint in Nar Shaddaa. This was the very same establishment that the Sith Lord found Vesphira once more...and so it made sense for her to go there. So, Darth Metus made haste and ventured forth to the Hutt moon once more, arriving just after the fall of night.

And this time, he looked the part of Sith.

Hooded. Armored. Masked. Darth Metus strode through the doors in silence. His arrival was unnoticed, thankfully, for most had their eyes plastered upon a rather rowdy festivity. A din of shouting and thumping on countertops characterized the scene: a mob of drunken patrons watching a brawl. On one side was a rather badly beaten Rodian...who looked like a chair had been smashed into him. On the other, surprise surprise, was Deneve in all her Verd glory.

Darth Metus couldn't help but feel just a small...tiny...hint of pride.

"You've got your mother's eyes, and my right hook I see." he said, his voice a telepathic whisper. Sure, this wasn't the greatest opening to a tale of reconciliation, but it was worth a shot.

 

[Deneve Verd]

And the reason of her angst thought it wise to show himself?

Giving a low growl akin to something an animal would make, she picked up one of the chair legs and began beating her opponent; the fool who dared utter something foul about her mouth senseless. A series of blunt hits were placed at key points along his body; One behind the left knee to bring him down. One under his chin to knock him flat on his butt followed by a quick one to the side of his head to daze him before he fell. "That’s for the words about my mother.." Once he was down her heels found it's way against his throat, grinding against his windpipe as he would claw at her boot. "This is because you feel the need to be a lewd pig.."

Keeping her foot on his throat, she would squat down so that he could look into her eyes. "Say sorry.."Deneve would simply state, fully willing to step back and let bygones be bygones.. But, the idiot on the floor how to go and spit on her… Reaching up, she wiped the offending spittle off her face before receiving an unwanted message from her father.. Her anger reached it's breaking point, grabbing him by his shirt collar, Deneve pulled her arm back and hit him upside the head so hard that it echoed around the room. Letting go of the male within her grasp she let him slump to the floor unconscious . Sighing, she shrugged as cheers rang out around the room.

Moving to her table, well her mother's table. She shot back a remark at her father. "Come to shove me in another drop pod father dearest?"


[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

As the young woman revealed the fullest extent of her fury, the Sith Lord did not bat an eye. This...seeming indifference...to the carnage was a direct result of a number of factors. First amongst these was the fact that Darth Metus was simply used to such displays of brutality; whether it be by his own hands or those of a subordinate. Second, the young woman before him was indeed his child; and as such he would have expected nothing less than beating an offender within an inch of their miserable life.

When the remains of the Rodian fell to the floor, the Sith Lord followed [member="Deneve"] to the table. This was a rather familiar seat, for it was where he had last spoken to Vesphira in the establishment. Nostalgia upon nostalgia it seemed. Then came the justified comment...Darth Metus exhaled solemnly before folding his hands on the table. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before formulating a response.

"So much was happening at that moment. We were being smacked with enemy air support. The Rebels were advancing on the Garrison, and Marek was going ape-poodoo with a karking tornado. When you showed up, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want you getting killed by any of those things, so I acted. You're justified in being pissed off about it, but try to see it from my angle. I didn't want you to get hurt."

 

[Deneve Verd]

And now came the poker face… Every trace of emotion drained from her being. Leaning forward, Deneve would fold her hands atop the table. "I suppose if I were in your position and my child acted like I did. I would shove her into a drop pod…" Leaning back, she would regard her father with eyes daring him to say something at the news she just placed upon the table. There were ways to give her father a heart attack and this was just one of the few seeing as their were no battles going on.

"Even if I may see eye to eye, I am still ticked at you. You should of let me cool off I would have been home after I found mother and told her what you did... " Reaching into her bag that she had draped over the chair she was sitting in, she pulled out and apple and began peeling it with the dagger she had also removed. Setting the dagger down, she would bite into the apple and then chew it slowly, taking her time before once again speaking after a few awkward moments.

"Anything else you needed father?"

[member="Darth Metus"]