Two Steps Forward

[Damsy Callat]

Location: Tipoca City, Kamino​

Outside Suspended Animation Lab​

Form: Humanoid​

Wearing: Wetsuit​

Theme: This Is Me​

Tag: [member='Darth Metus']​

​

​

​

​

Today was the day! She was going to see her father for the first time in months and she could barely contain her excitement.

Normally, Damsy hated metamorphosis to the point that she did whatever she could to stay in the water for as long as possible, in her natural squaloid form. Even when something exciting was waiting for her one land--like a friend date with Naroh Se or the recent party on Thaere Privo--she still dreaded changing. But the one exception was her father. The anticipation for seeing him, hugging him, talking to him, made the pain worth it, and even seem less intense that it usually was.

Maybe it was her version of daughterly love.

Naroh Se had run into Damsy as she walked down the hall as fast as her legs could bear her--which wasn't quickly at all--to the quarters that she had been given but rarely used, where she was planning to meet up with Metus. "Excited are we, changeling?" the female Kaminoan asked with a slight bow of her head.

"I can't wait! " Damsy exclaimed as she moved past her friend. Indeed she couldn't: she had spent the night swimming in large circles and counting the lobes in a patch of seaweed to pass the time since the night before.

The Sithspawn slowed as she got to a particular catwalk. Not only was she forced to because her legs began to ache, but her heart constricted in her chest. Why, oh why, had she had to come this way? Over the indoor bridge that looked into the lab that she had lay comatose in.

Damsy sighed and forced herself to walk to the glass. She cupped her hands on either side of her face and leaned onto the glass. As always, the Kaminoans liked is too bright, but she could still make out the shadows of the kolto tank and examination table. She sighed again and closed her eyes, lowering her forehead onto the cool glass.

The past wasn't going to change, that much she knew, but she didn't have to like it, though she had made peace with it.

 

[Malok]

K A M I N O​

[member="Damsy Callat"]​

Damsy was a gift.

Decades ago, the Galaxy was a far different place for Darth Metus. Though the Confederacy yet existed in those days, it was a far cry from the nation of the present. Its worlds were governed differently. Its people existed differently. And most notably, Darth Metus was the furthest thing from being its leader. In fact, during that era, the Sith was simply a member of the Templar Order: the immediate predecessor to the Knights Obsidian. Now, during this particular span of time, the young Darth Metus was first introduced to the godly art of Alchemy. With this tutelage in hand, he began to create artifacts to address each and every weakness in his existence.

But there was one weakness he could not cure. He and his first wife, Phoebe Draclau, could not have children. In time, Darth Metus would learn that it was not his fault per se - as he was blessed with numerous natural offspring. But in the moment, he saw this as a failure of his own making. A weakness that, like all others, needed to be eliminated from his existence. And when his greatest tool, Alchemy, failed to accomplish this goal, he turned to the genetic experts of the Confederacy: Kamino. Without Phoebe’s knowing at the time, he borrowed genetic material and parlayed with the cloners for a miracle.

Give them a child. End the weakness which had claimed their lives.

And the first result of their efforts was [member="Damsy Callat"]. At the time, the Kaminoans did not know what would transpire when Force Sensitive blood was mingled with Shi’ido DNA - such was the case with Darth Metus and Phoebe Draclau. Therefore, there was no degree of calibration that could have predicted the sorry state that Damsy would be born in. Her first months required constant kolto submersion to maintain life. Constant adjustments. Constant surgical procedures. And all the while, the youthful dismay of Darth Metus reared its ugly head. He demanded that the cloners start over and continue their work. All, but one, complied with the Sith’s order: Naroh Se.

To this day, he was grateful that she defied his tantrum and saw to the wellbeing of his daughter. Many years later, Darth Metus matured into the man of the present and saw value in the gifts that he had been given. His death and subsequent return to life had placed a new meaning on the word Fatherhood; and therefore he began to turn his life around. Where once he did not care about the wellbeing of his children, he now sought to for a lasting bond with each and every one of them. And chief amongst them was his little mermaid, Damsy.

Though she was not strong enough to permanently depart Kamino, there were instances where the Sith’s daughter could venture out and experience normal days. In fact, whilst the Sith was making googly eyes at the Queen of Relovian, it was said that Damsy had a great time during Thaere Privo’s gala. However, whenever she eventually had to return home, Darth Metus now made a point of coming to see her as often as he possibly could. And, shortly after landing upon the rain soaked world, the hooded Sith descended down the halls of the cloning facility. Soon, the clack of boots upon pristine floors would reach Damsy’s ears.

Simply turning would reveal a hooded man, draped in onyx. Reaching, gloved hands would expose a sulfuric gaze which softened at the sight of his daughter. His arms opened. His lips curved into a smile. ”Hello there princess, how’s about a hug?”

 

[Damsy Callat]

It was bittersweet to reminisce.

Unlike some of the siblings she didn't yet know she had, no artificially pleasant memories of her childhood had been planted in her head. Rather, she remembered a human replica droid, created in secret by Naroh Se to shield a child from the emotional trauma of being rejected by a father. Young Damsy didn't deserve that to begin with, Naroh Se had thought, but she certainly didn't need to cope with it on top of the already excruciating physical pain that was her birth and subsequent life support.

For what would have normally been her formative years--from newborn to ten years old--Damsy lived in the lab that she now stood outside of, of which she remembered virtually nothing. After those first few months of life, subjected to more live-giving-fluid rather that freed of it, the Kaminoans decided to freeze Damsy with a technique that allowed her to grow. The decision had been beneficial to Damsy in the long run, but it had initially been made to erase the poor creation from [member="Darth Metus"]'s sight as he oversaw the following experiments.

But Damsy had grown up without knowing the latter part to that story. Naroh Se very rarely told stories of that time, most of which being half-truths, and the only memories of Damsy's own were hazy glimpses of Metus' HRD waiting attentively outside of his daughter's glass prison. And now, the two--the droid and the Sith Lord--had graded seamlessly back into one another. Naroh Se was not happy about it, but Damsy evidently was, so she let it be.

There were bitter times that she did remember, though. If she knew she many, stretching into the present day, were awaiting her the moment that her Kaminoan guardian ushered her out into Tipoca City, Damsy might have begged to stay in that lab forever. Because they had been paid for their medical contribution to the gift that was Damsy, most adult Kaminoans managed to keep their opinions about the monstrosity that was Damsy to themselves...though the young ones were a different story entirely.

That was the reason, upon hearing footsteps behind her, the female siren kept her eyes trained downwards and sighed. As if on cue, Trinj, Damsy's pet sea-mouse and maybe the only being that at least seemed to really understand her plight, crawled out of her pocket and, squeaking softly, nestled into the crook of her neck, gently pulling a poof of her dark, curly hair over himself like a blanket. She felt his paws, analogous to her legs, against a scaly patch on her neck on which he settled. Maybe it had been destiny that she had found Trinj, who must have been one of the last sea-mice on Kamino that could still undergo corpus mutatio like their transplanted cousins on New Alderaan.

As soon, however, as she heard her father's voice, she whipped around on her heel entirely too fast. It caused her to begin to fall backward, but, thanks to the glass behind her, she caught herself with her elbows and pushed herself back up. "Father!" she exclaimed as she waddled the short distance over to him. As soon as she could, she returned the tight hug.

"How's the rest of the galaxy?" she muttered into his chest.

 

[Malok]

As the little mermaid took her first steps, the Sith looked in the mirror.

The placement of her feet. The uncertainty of her balance. All of which were a testament to the hubris and an infinitely younger Darth Metus. Yet the more the father of the present watched his child attempt to walk, the more a strange pang in his chest erupted into being. Though he could not adequately put the sensation into words, any sane being would identify it as guilt. Plain and simple. He had created this beautiful, wonderful child - and yet marred her all the same. He had condemned her to a lesser life of seclusion within white-washed walls and stormy seas. Her presence within the Gala, and even in the future, would be punctuated by stays here. This was no way to leave.

Regardless, the Vicelord embraced his child with everything he had. His arms ensnared around her delicate form, drawing her close into the dampness of his garments. He did not even spare a thought to the fact that he was still rainswept - but given that she was a mermaid, that probably would not have raised much concern. All that mattered was that moment. Leaning, he placed a ginger kiss upon her brow; which elicited a squeak from the hitchhiker that resided upon the scaly portion of her neck. Darth Metus drew back, ever so slightly, as he was surprised that such a noise could be made by his child. However, his sulfuric gaze noticed something moving.

And out peeked her pet sea-mouse. The thunderous baritone of his chuckle filled the hall at the sight of her companion.

”I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that is yours right? I don’t need to hound our long-necked friends about keeping things spotless around here, do I?” his words were alive with bemusement, for, if nothing else, the Kaminoans knew exactly how to keep a clean facility. A painstakingly, clean facility. They still wouldn’t let him wear a certain pair of boots inside to this day. Yet after he had his fill of grinning, a small nugget of truth escaped his lips. The role of Vicelord was not exactly a glamour-filled experience. Sure, there were parades and holo-vision appearances alongside new member worlds...but there were also the long hours of arguing with the Viceroyalty to get things done. Each world was so independent that aligning various viewpoints for a singular goal took weeks at times.

And don’t get him started on the paperwork.

”The rest of the Galaxy...is keeping your old man busy. Very, very, very busy.” He wouldn’t bore her with the excessive details, but his tone was enough to denote a genuine cocktail of exhaustion and stress. Regardless, he perked up the moment he looked into those eyes of hers - the very same that he once hand before the darkness corrupted them into a shade of amber. ”But! I had something I wanted to ask you princess. I, frankly, miss you like a chubby kid missed cake. And, I was thinking, perhaps we could make some of this equipment of yours mobile. Get you a few setups abroad…”

There was a gleam in his eye.

”If you’d like, you can stay with me on Geonosis. And Krant. And wherever else I decide to throw a house - what do you say?”

[member="Damsy Callat"]

 

[Damsy Callat]

"Yeah!" she replied, exclamation somewhat muffled by her father's clothing as she still clung to him, refusing to let go. "Trinj is mine." Something of a new friend, her always companion, as he could live with her in the deep sea, but not too much so either. Perhaps it was an indication: [member="Darth Metus"] missed too much every time he was away.

He had missed infinitely more the now-faraway years when he refused to even visit.

As the Sith spoke to answer her question, Damsy pulled back, where she teetered slightly as her center of mass shifted. She took hold one of Metus' hand, only partially to help find her balance, but also to remain close. Show her love. She really did miss him, every moment of her predominantly marine existence. Granted, it was relatively dull compared to his prestigious, if not a little exasperating, lifestyle--well, apart from the saberjowls attacking her every so often.

And, evidently, he missed her too, for he said it. But Damsy couldn't bring herself to accept the fact wholeheartedly. While she had a great time at the gala--she just might have met the love of her isolated life thanks to whatever had ended up in that water--but she had not even been recognized as a Vi'dreya on Thaere Privo. That meant she was shameful, didn't it? Of course it did; the Vicelord's daughter needed to be beautiful and graceful, not a distasteful science experiment.

But then she questioned that all, frowning. "...I don't know. Does Naroh Se think that's a good idea?"

 

[Malok]

Location: Kamino​

Tag: [member="Damsy Callat"]​

It was written all over her face.

The Sith had made numerous attempts over recent years to build a lasting bond with his children. From his warrior sons to his noble daughters, all of whom he tried - against all hope - to bridge that massive divide. There was a lifetime of absence that he had to make up for, and for some there was no filling the void of a Father. It was too little, too late. They had grown up without his support. Without his love. And had become the persons they were because of it. More times than Darth Metus cared to admit, he found his attempts to place even a single foundation upon their relationship denied. His offers to try were met with concern. With doubt. At times, their words were harsh. Cold. Brutally honest. At others...they attempted to spare his feelings, but it was written all over their expressions. And as the offer escaped the Sith's lips, he could see his child's expression change.

She may have attempted to hide it. She might not have. But behind the ocean of her gaze...was doubt. Plain and simple.

And at face value, he understood her response. The Kaminoan cloner had been the parents that she deserved in his absence. She had cared for the young Sithspawn. Loved her. Watched over her. Scolded her. She had been everything that Darth Metus refused to be and failed to be, many times over. Thus, when her name was the first response on Damsy's lips, the Sith found a small sigh escaping him. When push came to shove...the Kaminoan would not stand in his way. After all, the world they called home had once been the plaything of the Galactic Empire - and it was his offensives which liberated it. There wasn't a Kaminoan who would, publicly at least, stand in the way of anything reasonable that he desired. But privately? Could he really tear Damsy away from the hands which cultivated her without there being more harm than good done?

"Well, I'd hope she'd say yes, because I was going to ask her to come too." he said, blurting out the response before logic had a chance to filter it. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but, it made the most sense. If she wasn't confident...if her first words were regarding the thoughts of the Kaminoan over what he offered...then maybe this would be the best resolution? A happy medium for the both of them. When the words escaped him, he did his best to offer a confident smile once more. He found her eyes - his eyes - and gingerly ran a hand over her cheek.

"And, maybe she can convince you to take the family name. Callat is great and all, but Vi'dreya has a much nicer ring to it."

 

[Damsy Callat]

Ever so slowly, a smile returned to Damsy's features--the sun reaching its rosy fingers over the calm, dark blue sea. She seemed, she was, oblivious to the damage her question, maybe even the answer, had done. After all, as far as the young sithspawn knew, Metus and Naroh Se had known each other--and been on nothing less than amicable terms--since the day she herself was born. Of course, that much was not at all true, nor had it been.

"We'd like that," she replied, barely containing the bubbling of a coarse giggle. Someone else was excited by the aura, it seemed, as the grey form of Trinj bolted out onto Damsy's shoulder and scampered up the side of her neck. And there he sat, on her hair roots, flicking his tail so that it landed in front of his owner's face--as if she hadn't felt him climbing. She let the laugh out properly then, reaching up to sweep her sight clean. "Trinj can come too, can't he?" Yes, it was natural she would want to hold onto the three beings she had grown closet to.

T h r e e: Naroh Se, Trinj, and [member="Darth Metus"].

Now, the only question there was which father exactly fit, the Vicelord or his HRD.

Then came the realization. Her face dropped in turn. Moving...to Geonosis, to Krant, meant walking. It sent a sudden shudder down her spine, one that threw her weight just enough to send her stumbling back. She caught herself by reaching out to Metus. "But it'll...hurt, father," she muttered as she examined the floor. No specks of dirt to count, so she mentally tallied the invisible. Fiery shame ran under her skin as fast little pinpricks, and to the sensation she screwed up her nose. Trinj chirped sadly and jumped down to nuzzle into Damsy's cheek.

She loved her father, she did, and she missed him ever since Naroh Se had secretly--to Damsy, that is--placed his droid doppleganger in storage. But, to go through her childhood again? Adjusting to living took time, as did acclimating to her environment. That was part of the reason she had never left Kamino. Another was that it was comfortable, seemingly perfect for the Human-Shi'ido hybrid; the only time that the pain truly dissipated was when she Shifted, though her human form grew more and more comfortable the longer she was in it at once.

The last, of course, was that she had been unwanted, but Damsy had not notion of that...yet.

"You have to hold my hand," she added, shy now, as she glanced up. She had memories--true but false at the same time--of the electronic Metus doing the very same through her many procedures and accidental, and purposeful, metamorphoses, through the excruciating pain. Thus, she didn't think she was asking of the real man now before her to experience something that he hadn't, and perhaps wasn't fully prepared for: to hold his daughter through her pain, knowing he had been its original cause.

 

[Malok]

Location: Kamino​

Tag: [member="Damsy Callat"]​

Following the Eshan Exclusion Zone…

Darth Metus yearned for the simpler times. For but a period of a few short weeks, everything was going right in his life. His children were beginning to have faith in him once again. His nation was prospering and expanding at a regular pace. He was beginning to find some semblance of joy in the arms of his special counsel. For a few, the stars aligned and the heavens smiled down on the Sith who entitled himself Vicelord. However. As these things often went in his life, all that glittered did not remain gold for long. The peace of his nation came to a sudden end when Eshan was subjugated by the Mandalorian regime. His children, for a variety of reasons, began to doubt and have disdain for their father. And the small sum of joy had to be concluded.

In the end, the Sith was right back where he started - but was worse for wear overall.

The battle to liberate Eshan from the clutches of the Mandalorian regime had been a breaking point for the Sith. His body sustained injuries that, if not for the timely intervention of his mentor, would have resulted in his second demise ultimately. However, her intervention was not a complete remedy to the grievous wounds he sustained that day. No, they were only addressing the most life threatening - but so much more was broken, battered, and bruised underneath the surface. Yet, the office of Vicelord did not permit much in the way of moments to breathe. In the wake of the Eshan offensive, Darth Metus was wanted more now than ever before. And he would not let his people down in order to do something as mundane as rest in a bacta tank.

But as these things often went, the longer one ignored a problem, the worse it became. The Sith awoke one morning only to discover that he had lost all feeling in his dominant hand. This reality was enough for him to make the trip to Kamino, where he could have medical care covertly. Thus, Damsy Se would soon find a missive erupting upon her personal comm from her father. He was there, if she wanted to see him, in one of the sickbays. Typically, that was the direct inverse to how their visits went. The Sith would be the one to find his little girl suspended in a vat to keep her healthy and strong; but now, Darth Metus was the one floating within an ocean of bacta. The Kaminoans were unwavering in their duties to restore their liege; but none would ever stop the little mermaid from seeing her father.

Especially not when he wished, against all hope, that she wanted to see him.

 

[Damsy Callat]

"Loving and fighting​

Accusing, denying​

I can't imagine a world with you gone"​

/ | \​

Form: Humanoid Equipment: Outfit | Leg exoskeletons​

Location: Kamino Tag: [member="Darth Metus"]​

​

​

She let the pinging notification alone.

Even a Jen'ari with a lightsaber trained on her couldn't have made her view it.

But upon stooping to snap together the last restraints on her leg braces, she glimpsed part of the rotating preview on her wrist-mounted datapad.

She had expected his to be apologizing, again, from a distance. To her, that meant nothing, not that meeting him at Sinners Well in person had done much good either... She actually wasn't even sure what she wanted. But, the present irony wasn't lost on her. And just like that, perhaps because of it, she shrugged on her rust orange, ribbed jacket and rushed down the hall towards the medbay he had been taken to, her pace just below a leisurely jog, much faster than it had been without the ingenuity of Allya.

"Alalli?" Damsy asked as she ducked past a few of the amphibian healers, unconscious for a moment that she was speaking in Kaminoan. The Kaminoans, of course, often spoke Galactic Standard Basic, but in her prolonged leave, Damsy had rejected most everything that came from off-planet. That included the universal language and her Dauntless armor.

She shook her head. Oh, seas, why had she come?

"Daddy?" she tried again as she neared his bacta tank. She took a single, shaky breath and then gently clawed at her heart. Was this...what it felt like?

 

[Malok]

Location: Bacta Bath, Kamino​

Tag: [member="Damsy Callat"]​

The Vicelord had certainly been better.

Now devoid of his armor or tailored suits, the extent of his injuries were laid bare for the young Sithspawn to witness. Numerous gashes spanned the length of his torso, indicating where the shrapnel had impaled his flesh. Smaller, yet clearly deep, scratches were frequent throughout. In truth, the only area of his body which had evaded harm was his head. In light of this fact, the Sith was resting. For the first time since the offensive, his eyes had lulled to a true close and he took deep, breaths from the oxygen mask over his face.

He almost did not hear when [member="Damsy Callat"] entered the room, for her initial words were in the same language of those tending to him. However, when she addressed him in basic, his eyes creaked open. At first, all he saw were the bubbles that his exhale had caused. Then, the glaring, pallid light of the facility. But, through the glass, he managed to make out the form of his little one. Though she wouldn't be able to see it beneath the mask, his lips curved into a smile.

"Damsy." he breathed. His voice was amplified by the speakers located just outside the glass. She would be able to hear him loud and clear. "How are you honey? Is all well?"

She knew of Eshan and all it entailed - or so he thought, so he did not immediately address the elephant in the room. Rather, he would happily settle for small talk. Not everything had to be bonfires and massive statements, right?

 

[Damsy Callat]

Was all...?

Damsy shook her head, equal parts not expecting the question and not knowing how to respond. Surely, Metus wasn't so idealist when it came to his children to think that Damsy's anger had dissipated. Nor could he possibly be desperate enough to injure himself so as to win her over. He didn't have the time or energy to waste on her. So he had come to Kamino out of sheer necessity.

Damsy fought back the urge to turn and leave. Instead, she drew even closer to the tank and began slowly, growing wary of a falling into a verbal trap that might obligate her to go back to the Rebellious Hawk, Dauntless HQ: "My legs are better from Copero." That they were, thanks to both Allya and some of the CIS physical therapists and armorsmiths. Her first large-scale operation in human form had gone over rather well, all things considered, but afterwords her legs had given out. The effort had left them completely exhausted. She had worn her braces, of course, but later it was found that the prescription was ineffective and she had not given her body enough time to acclimate to having and using her legs.

But all was alright now, as evidenced by her movements.

She chose to let alone the aiwha in the room; she had never set foot on Eshan thanks to her injury and had left from Kamino before the operation's end. There was something else though. Something that any father may want to know about his daughter, or at least one of the many things. With Damsy, [member="Darth Metus"] would have to start slow. Baby steps or, in Damsy's case, sometimes baby paddles.

"And...there was a turbidite last week." She then paused to sigh and wet her lips. "I can't find Trinj; I think he's dead."

It was a visably uncomfortable admission, as she shifted her body weight from one hip to the other as she spoke and suddenly wouldn't meet his gaze, but Damsy told him because deep down she wanted her father—her real father—in her life too.

 

[Malok]

My legs are better from Copero.

T'was here that the failings of the Sith Lord as a sire had been made apparent. In the wake of leading his armies into battle upon the distant world, numerous reports had made their way across his desk. Rumblings of the native Chiss being dissatisfied with the manner of their liberation. Rumors of the Jen'ari Empire relocating across the stars. Casualty numbers. All of which demanded the eyes of the Vicelord - and in catering to those needs, Darth Metus did not hearken to the fact that [member="Damsy Callat"] had seen her legs give way following Copero. Her sibling and her unit had done all required to see her made whole again - but the Sith only knew that she lived.

Despite this, she would be able to tell that a wave of relief washed over the Sith - as evidenced by the easing of the crinkles of his brow. In the lapse between her acknowledging his words and the bigger news, Darth Metus replied: "I'm so glad to hear that. It's good to see you on your own feet again."

And then the young woman made her confession - and the two halves of the Sith began to war within. Though his expression did not change from that of a doting father, a small voice within his mind recoiled at the news. Trinj...wasn't that the rodent she kept with her at all times? It was just a mouse. the voice said, dismissively. The same voice that demanded he focused on the larger and more grander aspects of the Galaxy. Yet, for just a moment, Darth Metus urged his ambitions to quiet. For, while he was the furthest thing from the most attentive or present sire...he knew enough that Trinj mattered to Damsy.

Reaching out, he pressed his palm flat on the glass, apologetically.

"I am so sorry Damsy." he began. "Where did you see him last? Is there any way I can help?"

It may have been a wild thought that the Vicelord was willing to embark on a quest to find a missing rodent...but it wasn't too far fetched for a parent to want to make his child smile again.

 

[Damsy Callat]

Again, Damsy carefully shifted her weight from one leg to the other, but otherwise stayed in place at [member="Darth Metus"]'s gesture. Part of her knew it was coming from a good place, a side of him she longed to see in a different light than how she had for the past months - bitterly - but she left his hand on the glass. They were estranged, after all, and Damsy didn't know how to act like it without turning her back on her father forever.

A few moments of prolonged silence stretched into minutes as Damsy thought over the possibilities of her response, looking anywhere but at Metus. That same part of her ached to give him what he wanted, a way in, and explain. Explain that there was an aiwha feeding ground a few days swim from Tipoca, where Trinj had went to build a burrow soon she returned to Kamino. That the last time she saw him alive was out there and he had visibly gained quite a bit of weight feeding on the plentiful krill. Suddenly, at the image, Damsy allowed herself a single, dry chuckle and a small, but fleeting, smile.

Well, at least his last few months had been spent in bliss.

But then the memories grew less pleasant. Damsy's eyes screwed shut as she tried to stop remembering what happened next. She shook her head, but she just couldn't seem to stop it: When Naroh Se had told her of a disturbance along the underwater transmission lines, she had plunged off one of the city's landing pads and swam as fast as she could...

The Sithspawn made another movement; she hugged her elbows tightly around herself. Thinking anymore about Trinj at present had grown traumatic in the space of seconds. She needed comfort and she felt like she could only seek that from herself right now. "Please," she finally spoke, voice cracking as her gaze rose to meet his. "Don't. You're breaking my heart."

The sudden caring was evidently too much at once.