Wash This Memory Clean

[Baska Tankreyd]

Beatrix's words had been etched in Baska's mind since the very moment the young Queen had stated them only days ago. Her mother Inkeri Tankreyd was a Dukana on the Hapan world of Sivoria; and her name was familiar to House Alastor.

Her mother was alive.

The Sith Master had been through hell and back in her life, her power forged in the deepest abysses and in the most violent fires. Flames still licked at her soul, sustaining her anger and despair to push her forward, never backing down, no matter the price. Yet the too often silent hope to reunite with her mother had been close to death for so long, a childhood scar that time hadn't been kind to, eventually eclipsed by her own maternal tragedy upon the loss of Denart and Heyrina.

Razielle had offered a royal escort to her, showing significant support; but Baska had turned it down. While she appreciated it greatly, she needed to do this alone.

She had taken her own ship, flying across the Cluster to reach Sivoria, where her maternal family came from. The lush world whose rich landscape was accentuated by many mountains rich in minerals that helped the world thrive with resources, passed beneath her, after she entered the atmosphere.

Home had been a complicated and painful word to her for so long, that she couldn't bring herself to consider Sivoria as such. Iego and her hidden property by the sea side was the closest thing she had to a home for over fifteen years, and she was unsure she could change her feelings.

A wave of scattered memories, glimpses from a long gone epoch flooded her mind as she reached the edge of the Tankreyd lands. She felt a lump in her stomach, still wrapping her mind around what was about to happen. She knew that the Dukana was at her estate, Razielle had made sure of that.

She landed her ship with a steady hand, regardless of the tempest raging in her soul. Once she had powered it down, she remained in the cockpit, piercing blue eyes staring through the viewport, taking in the whole scenery. She eventually forced herself up, and soon descended the boarding ramp.

The sea breeze reminded her of Iego, taking her by surprise. It brought a faint smile to her face, as she walked towards the edge of the landing pad, where she could see a stone-covered pathway leading towards the mansion.

[Inkeri Tankreyd]

"Dukana, a ship approaches."

Inkeri considered herself a savvy woman of her years, not at all forgetful of visitors. That Mathilde had said 'a ship' without a name attached informed the dukana that the ship was not familiar to her staff, and also that she was not incorrect, it was an unscheduled visit. She had made no arrangements to meet with anyone today. Rather, she had canceled any plans she'd had, due to Seraphine's visit.

She did not prod the girl for further information. Mathilde would have been forthcoming with more, if she'd had it. Inkeri simply accompanied her out of the salon, through the downstairs halls. An escort of armed guards joined them as they exited the stately front of her home, facing the landing pad slightly downhill from their location, along a graveled path. There they waited.

For a long time, nothing happened. No ramp emerged, and Inkeri began to wonder if it was just possible there was a mistake? But then at last it descended. A single figure emerged, making their way up the path. Inkeri's heart began to beat harder. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment, she was too afraid to move or speak. Giving voice to what she thought, who she thought she was seeing might evaporate the possibility.

She clutched at Mathilde's hand, at her side. The downstairs maid clutched it back, not knowing why, only that her lady seemed shaken, and she had never seen her so. Inkeri let go, swallowed and watched as the blonde, strength and power etched in her movements, came closer.

[Baska Tankreyd]

She felt the individuals approaching long before her eyes fell upon them. She saw the guards and the lady-in-waiting walk with the woman she recognized instantly. Baska might have been too young to really connect her mother's presence in a Force-laced way, but if she had had any lingering doubt, the Dukana facing her brought back so many memories. They both had aged but it mattered not to the Sith Master. It was her mother, her mamma as she had cried out for her when but a child who needed reassurance and love.

The recognition was mutual, although she felt that her mother was shocked and afraid, in a way mirroring her own feelings. While she knew who she was facing. Baska couldn't help having a difficult time coming to terms with the realization she wasn't dreaming. She knew the guards were ready to strike her down - or rather to attempt to; and she was actually relieved that her mother ensured her security was well handled. She woudln't want anything else for the woman who had given her life.

She slowly closed the distance between them, her steps heavier as she came to stand before Inkeri Tankreyd. She felt at a loss of words, unsure of what to do with herself. While she had been a stubborn dark phoenix who always returned to the battlefield, she had never imagined this day would happen.

Struggling to find her voice as tears fell down her cheeks, she said the only words that came to her.

"Mamma, it's me... Baska."

[Inkeri Tankreyd]

It was a dream. A very vivid, strangely bittersweet dream. It had to be.

Inkeri stepped forward. Just one step, but even that proved challenging to her normally stalwart posture. The Dukana's legs wobbled, and the girl at her side, Mathilde, quickly took hold of her arm for support as her mistress regained her footing. She could not see through the haze of hot tears leaking from her eyes, but it no longer mattered. She could feel that she was not dreaming.

Again she tried to move forward toward her daughter, flanked by curious and mute guards at her sides. When she reached her, Inkeri's graceful - slightly older - hands reached for her daughter's face.

"Where? ...where have you been?" The question was barely audible in her emotional state.

[Baska Tankreyd]

For most of her life, her mother's face had only been the matter of faded memories, of fleeting dreams.

If it wasn't for her own crashing wave of emotions and shock, Baska would have been quicker than her mother's lady in waiting in catching the Dukana. She was grateful to the other woman, but still couldn't pry her watery eyes away from her mother.

When the young Chume had revealed her mother's survival to the Sith Master, it had been an old wound seared open with crushing hope; but actually seeing her mother was a whole other tempest where past and present collided.

She gently rested her hands on her mother's wrists as the older Tankreyd closed the distance between them.

"I... It's your flowers that brought me here, mamma."

Her cracked voice was but a whisper.

"The ones you gifted Queen Beatrix," she murmured before emotions took over.

She pulled her mother into an embrace that would only do so much to hide her tears.