Daala could not remember the last time she waited for someone. Her father though, was a man everyone waits for. Standing with Palleaon outside his personal ready room, she had prepared herself for her father's judgment. Had she been too self-confident? Had she worried too much what her father would think after years of silence? Daala loved her family but knew they understood her duty. Yet, to play devil's advocate, she had a duty to them and to her people – a duty that she had entirely neglected. Palleaon folded his hands in front of him and said nothing.
"I don't know why." She said breaking the silence that hung between them.
"I wish you had trusted me enough. Was it something I did?" he responded.
Daala stared down at the deck. There was a lot she had not told him. There was a lot he still needed to learn about her.
"I never wanted to make it public knowledge. It was bad enough to hear the constant rumors of how I achieved my rank. I did not want any further grounds for speculation of favouritism," she exhaled. "It's safe to say that does not make much of a difference now."
"It would have been a different plan had we included your father's fleet." Palleaon stated as politely as possible. He was not about to say it, but he was rather hurt by her lack of trust. He had thought that he had built a more solid relationship with her. It was now apparent that it needed further construction.
"In all honesty, Gil, we might not have had that option," she paused, frowning deeply. "I am my father's greatest disappointment."
Before he could respond, the Sovereign called out to them.
"I will see the both of you."
Daala was first in and glanced hurriedly at the imposing figure who sat behind his large desk.
"You will stand at attention." He said coldly still looking down at his datapad.
Daala swallowed. No good would come out of this. That tone was ingrained in her memory since childhood and she tried to ready herself for the storm that was quickly coming in her direction.
"I am going over the numbers here, Admiral, and to say that I am ashamed is an understatement."
"Sir, I –" she began.
The Sovereign slammed his hand down on his desk – the sound reverberated against the bulkhead. It started Daala.
"You will be silent!" he roared. "I am in command here! This, all this absolute waste," he said gesturing downwards "Was caused by your utter arrogance and that damn pride of yours, girl."
He paused.
"And don't even let me get started on what occurred in the year prior to this."
Palleaon observed out of the corner of his eye that Daala was struggling to maintain her composure.
"I taught you better than this. I trained you to be better than this. I expected more than this. How dare you dishonor your line. How dare you treat the lives of your troops as if they were nothing. They deserved your respect; your protection and you gave them nothing but disorder and death."
The Sovereign's green eyes turned coldly towards Palleaon.
"Vice Admiral, my," he paused "utter disgust of your decisions over the last several years is barely palatable."
Palleaon remained silent, staring straight ahead.
"Again, solely caused to pride and arrogance. I took it rather personally that you refused my hospitality following Endor. But to ally yourself with a warlord? To attack and kill your own brethren? I can't even fathom that. Disgusting and dishonorable for someone of your caliber."
The Sovereign sighed deeply.
"I question the ability of either one of you to command at this point in time. Therefore, until I otherwise state as such, the Galactic Empire shall be governed under my authority and by the officers, whether Imperial or Rhys that I so choose."
The Sovereign turned his chair around; he had thrown down the gauntlet and they would be forced to respond to his challenge.
"Dismissed." He ordered with a wave of his back hand.
The old man had vested them both. Suppressing his own soul-crushing whipping, he gazed over Daala who could barely keep steady. For a handful of dreadful seconds, that look in her eyes turned him back into the boy from long ago.