In a flash of inspiration, Kell had decided to look up the reporter that originally interviewed Reya. It was hard sifting through all the news and speculation about Reya floating around, but once the team found out she would be interviewed by Miarre again, Reya was finally able to learn more about what to expect.
A meeting with her mother for the first time in almost a decade.
Reya grimaced as Tassie landed the ship at central base. With so little time to prepare herself since finding out it was finally time for her to be back in the spotlight for the world to see, she was a turbulent wreck of emotions. Just yesterday, everyone assisted in Stanley’s burial. And now there she was, about to be fed to the wolves once again.
The coloured contacts she’d received worked perfectly and nobody had noticed a difference with her changing eye colour. That did little to calm her nerves as she walked off the ship and boarded a special car set to deliver her to her doom. Some might call her dramatic, but she didn’t think so. After all, this was her mother she was meeting. They’d never had the displeasure of seeing her true colours.
Rann, Beor, and Jyn loaded into the armoured vehicle alongside her, and they sped off towards their destination. Reya couldn’t help but notice that the roads were clear of any traffic and that military personnel lined them, armed and ready to push back the crowds gathered in the hopes of seeing her in person.
“Is all this really necessary?” Reya couldn’t help but ask. She was nothing but a fraud who didn’t deserve such treatment. Why the military went through such a display baffled her. The treatment she’d received visiting a café with Irric was bad enough. The amount of soldiers mobilized was truly absurd to her.
All for an interview.
She couldn’t help but wonder if that was to be her life from now on, where every move she made would be scrutinized and followed. Commented on and dissected by armchair generals who thought themselves experts on subjects they knew nothing about. She suppressed a shudder.
“Look at the turnout,” Jyn said as he looked out the heavily tinted window. “This is your first public appearance in a while and people are going nuts. Especially after the sob story your mother did last time.”
Reya’s expression darkened.
She said nothing, not wanting to get into her life from before she joined the military with her friends. Already, she was lost in her memories. To voice them would simply be a disaster she didn’t want to have to deal with.
The car pulled to a stop in front of a tall building, two lines of soldiers forming a path to the entrance, keeping away the lucky few that made it past the security and were nearby for the event. Jyn was the first to get out and he opened the door for Reya. She stepped outside and meekly followed him into the building, trying her best to project confidence. Even from the short walk inside, the scrutiny was unsettling for her.
It wasn’t long before she found herself backstage, waiting to be called onto the set. Rann stayed inside the room with her while Tassie and Jyn stood guard outside. “It’ll be fine,” Rann said when she saw anxiety creep into Reya’s eyes. “I’m sure your mother can’t wait to see you.”
Reya shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Nothing good ever comes from dealing with her. Just look at how she made my dad out to be last time.” Things hadn’t been pretty when her parents split, what felt like forever ago. She knew she didn’t have all of the specifics, but she could clearly remember how her father had been treated. He’d done his best to shield her from her mother’s manipulative personality, but he hadn’t been in the best spot in life either. It all culminated that fateful day when she truly couldn’t stand it anymore.
She didn’t have much, courtesy of her mother stealing from her bank accounts, but she’d managed to move what little money she had left somewhere safe and secure. And most importantly, out of her reach. With so little to go on when she left home, the military was the only option if she wanted to be clothed and fed.
Too bad it took her a little while to figure that one out.
Sleeping in the streets had been difficult. The more time passed, the less presentable her appearance became, and the less people had the inclination to give her the time of day, let alone hire her. She’d had to choose between eating or shelter, and she chose food. When she happened across a military recruiting event by chance, the recruiter took one look at her and ushered Reya inside, where she was given her first hot meal in so long.
It didn’t take the recruiter long to convince her to enlist. Once the benefits were made clear to her, she knew it was her best chance at survival. The kindness alone she’d been shown was enough, but having an actual future was the hope she’d needed at that point in her life.
She didn’t regret her choice, even in spite of her disastrous mission to the gru’ul facility where she’d been captured and horrifically tortured. Her team became the family she’d always wanted but never had. They were more than just friends or colleagues to her.
And now here she was.
Somehow, somebody important. Whose words everybody clamored to listen to. She knew she didn’t deserve the praise and attention, that she was nothing but a sham. She was a nobody. Getting tortured didn’t merit the treatment the world now felt she was owed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Rann call out to her. A gentle shake of her shoulder brought her back to the present.
“Reya, I said it’s time,” Rann said, concerned. She studied her friend for a moment as she collected herself. The blank expression that had slipped onto Reya’s face flickered through many emotions in the span of mere moments before settling on resignation. A pang shot through Rann’s heart. Her friend was hurting and there was nothing she could do to help. Worse yet, she was sending her marching straight to what was sure to be a difficult experience, if Reya’s reactions were any indication.
“I don’t want to,” Reya whispered. She shot Rann a pleading look that broke her friend’s heart. “But I know I don’t have a choice.” Without another word, she left the room and followed the employee sent bring her on stage.
Reya was told to wait on the sidelines. In front of the cameras, Miarre sat behind a wooden desk with immaculate posture. Two chairs sat angled towards each other on each side of the desk. In the chair furthest from her sat her mother, too focused on the cameras to notice her daughter’s arrival.
Of course she doesn’t care about me, Reya thought bitterly. Not once did her mother look her way. Her mother looked exactly the same as she had the last time Reya saw her. She hadn’t aged a day. Although with the length of their species’ lifespan, that was to be expected. Still, seeing her mother seemingly unaffected by their time apart stung.
The interview continued for several more seconds until Miarre suddenly switched tones. “Last time,” the reporter said, “I called on you, the people, to reunite Reya Ayala and her mother after their tragic separation.” She smiled slightly, unable to help herself. Though it had cost her, she’d gotten what she wanted. Miarre had to suppress a shudder when she thought back to the very specific list of topics to stick to during the interview. “And you did!” she said triumphantly. “Right now, in this very studio, Reya is waiting in anticipation for the chance to see her mother again. Here she is, everybody!”
A small shove from behind forced Reya to walk on set. She did her best to keep her frayed nerves from showing and sat down in the empty chair. Her mother’s expression immediately shifted into one of sheer joy. Lies, Reya thought. All lies. Still, in the deepest part of her heart, she hoped that her mother truly was happy to see her again after all those years. She knew the display was nothing but a veneer, but still she clung to the words Adrian had said by the campfire.
For a moment, the world watched as mother and daughter locked eyes for the first time, proud of what they’d accomplished.
“Reya,” Mihn said, her eyes tearing up. “My beautiful daughter. It’s been so long.” She moved as though to get up and hug Reya, but stopped at the last second, unsure of herself. She gave a nervous glance towards the camera, pausing to assess how the world would react.
Miarre saw the reluctance in Mihn’s gaze full of longing. She couldn’t help but choke up. “It’s alright,” she said, completely ignorant of Reya’s forced smile. “You can go hug your daughter. I don’t think anybody will mind.”
Tears rolled down Mihn’s face as she threw herself towards Reya and gathered her into a crushing hug. Reya stiffened and mechanically raised her arms to return it. “Just look at you,” Mihn said as she let Reya go. “You’re all grown up now.” Her eyes flicked towards the faint scar on Reya’s face, her disgust visible for half a second to Reya yet hidden from the cameras, thoroughly dashing Reya’s hopes that her mother cared about her.
Reya’s world came crashing down.
“It’s been a long time,” Reya said woodenly. Not long enough, she thought as her mother put some distance between them. As though coming to her senses, Mihn returned to her chair. An uncomfortable silence grew on set, one that the world interpreted as being charged so full of emotion that mother and daughter were speechless.
“There you have it folks,” Miarre said, her voice filling the space. “Thanks to your efforts, mother and daughter are reunited at last.” Using the corner of her sleeve, she carefully dabbed her eyes dry to avoid ruining her makeup. “And what a touching reunion that was. Mihn, do you have anything you want to say to your daughter?”
“I’m so sorry,” Mihn said, her voice quivering. “I should’ve looked harder for you when you left home, but I didn’t know how. You vanished without a trace. I was devastated and not in my right mind for quite some time.”
“I didn’t want you to know where I was going,” Reya said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her words as she spoke. “I never gave you any indication I was going to the military.” Not even she had known that’s where she would’ve ended up, but that wasn’t a topic she was willing to discuss openly in front of the world.
“And look at you now!” Mihn gushed. “You’ve accomplished so much. My daughter, the Silver Star holder.” Again she couldn’t help but stare at Reya’s only visible scar. “I see it had a price. What happened that gave you your medal? The military refuses to tell us. Could you?”
Reya wasn’t a fool. She knew what she could and could not say about the mission that had cost her so dearly. She shook her head. “I’m afraid now isn’t the time to go into any details. The world will learn when the time is right.”
“Have you any idea when that will be?” Miarre interjected.
“No,” Reya said, shutting down the reporter. To her surprise, no follow up question trying to manipulate her into spilling her secrets came.
“Could you at least tell us what you’ve been up to since we last saw you?” Miarre asked innocently.
Reya hesitated. Surely, there would be no harm in being incredibly vague about her activities. “I’ve been on vacation.”
“Seems like a rather long vacation. What do you do to fill your time?”
“I’ve been learning how to make music,” Reya replied.
Miarre frowned. “Who from?”
“My partner,” Reya said, only to immediately realize her slip up. Her eyes widened slightly in panic, but nobody noticed.
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Miarre latched onto the new piece of information. “You have a partner?” she asked. “How long have you been together?”
“Several months now,” Reya said carefully. “We met after I was awarded the Silver Star.”
“And he’s the one teaching you music?” Miarre asked.
“Yes!” Reya said excitedly. “He’s the most talented musician I’ve ever met. He’s incredible at what he does. I’ll be lucky if I manage to become even a fraction as good as he is.”
“And what instrument is he teaching you to play?”
Reya drew up short. The world didn’t know about the existence of Earth’s instruments yet, and she imagined the Tribunal would rather it remain that way. “It’s not important,” she said, attempting to deflect the question. “What’s important is that it gives me something to do. I never thought I’d end up so devoted to music, but here I am.”
The conversation continued and Reya successfully steered it away from anything relating to Adrian and her music. Mihn continued to play the part of a concerned mother, fawning and fussing over Reya. And play the part she did. By the time the interview was finally done, all the viewers were convinced of her sincerity.
As the conversation wound down, Miarre signed off and put an end to it before it could drag on. “That’s all for now. More for you next time,” she said directly to the cameras. She received the signal that they’d stopped airing, and she slumped back into her chair, breathing a sigh of relief. She’d managed to follow Nessah’s stipulations to the letter, the only deviation being the part about Reya’s music and partner, but so little had been said about that she doubted the military would mind the very natural minor deviation from the topics she had to stick to. It would’ve been too strange had she not inquired when Reya brought them up.
“Thank you for organizing this,” Mihn said to Miarre. “It means so much to me to finally meet my daughter again after all these years.”
Miarre flashed a brilliant smile. “You’re welcome. Now that we’re off air, why don’t the two of you take some time to yourselves alone in the back room?” She waved over her assistant and shooed Reya and Mihn off to the room Reya had been waiting in before the interview started.
Mihn couldn’t help but grow nervous when she saw three fully armed soldiers flank them on their way to their destination. She knew her daughter had ties to the military, but had she truly become so important that a mere interview warranted such extreme protection measures?
When they arrived at the back room, Rann made to enter alongside Reya and her mother, but Mihn stopped her short. “Can’t we have a little privacy?” Mihn demanded. “It’s been so long since I last spoke with my daughter. Surely, you can’t believe something is going to happen?”
Jyn considered the request. “Very well,” he said. “Should we hear so much as a scream, we will enter to investigate,” he warned.
Her request granted, Mihn and Reya entered the room and closed the door behind them. The room wasn’t large by any means, just big enough to have a vanity piece and a couple of chairs. After standing in an awkward silence for several seconds, Reya suggested they sit down.
Once seated, the two women simply stared at each other. “Glad that’s finally over,” Mihn huffed, taking Reya by surprise. “The amount of security is unnecessary, don’t you think? I don’t know what you did, but surely it’s not worth this much effort.”
Reya held back a flinch at the biting remark. For once, she was in agreement with her mother. She didn’t warrant such extensive measures. Her mother was right.
Mihn didn’t notice her daughter’s silent struggles, nor did she care. Now that they were away from the cameras, she didn’t have to hide her disgust at her daughter’s visible disfigurement. “Did you really have to go and mar your face? It’s unbecoming and it reflects poorly on me.”
“That’s what you have to say?” Reya choked out. “All these years apart and that’s the only thing you can think to comment on?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She already knew her mother was vain and superficial but looked like it had only gotten worse during their time apart.
“Looks matter,” Mihn said, her tone full of disapproval. “I raised you better than that.”
“You hardly raised me at all!” Reya threw back, her anger mounting. “It was dad who took care of me. You did nothing but turn us against each other and ruin our family.”
“Don’t bring that sorry excuse for an a’vaare up here,” Mihn said. “I’m finally rid of that buffoon. I’ll not tolerate him dragging me down any longer.”
“He kept our family afloat!” Reya exclaimed.
Mihn snorted. “With what money? We were barely scraping by, don’t fool yourself. His job was embarrassing.”
“It’s not his fault he couldn’t support your expensive lifestyle. Have you no shame?” Reya said.
“He couldn’t live up to my expectations of him,” Mihn replied. “That’s hardly my problem. He’s a failure. Just like you were.”
Reya’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s what you think of me?” she stammered. “Even after I was awarded the Silver Star?”
“We both know you don’t deserve so much attention,” Mihn stated. “The Silver Star is just a piece of metal. It serves no purpose. You have nothing to show for your actions except disfigurement.”
Her mother’s scathing words stung. Reya knew she didn’t deserve the praise she received. All she’d done was fail her mission and get tortured. Pain wasn’t glorious. Surviving the orange chemical wasn’t something to celebrate. Not when she would have rather died than be subject to something so horrible.
She was suddenly very glad her mother couldn’t see the rest of her scars. Her long-sleeved shirt and pants covered them up perfectly. What would she say if she knew the true extent of her disfigurement? The light in her eyes dimmed at the memory as she fought to bury it back down, deep within her mind.
Mihn noticed the change in Reya’s gaze. “You have the same weak look in your eyes as your father,” she remarked coldly. “How you achieved such success is beyond me, but I guess you managed to make something of yourself, no matter how benign the reason is.”
Reya desperately wished she was back at the safe house with Adrian, away from the monster that was her mother. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was now. “I don’t know either,” she said in a small voice, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one who achieved it, not you.”
“And we both know that was a mistake. It should be me the world looks at, not you. We’ll just have to educate everyone on who the real star is,” Mihn said.
“What have you done that’s worth so much that everybody should venerate you?” Reya asked.
“It’s no matter,” Mihn sighed. “At least you have some use. Thanks to you, the spotlight is finally on me, where it belongs. Everyone will realize who the real star is soon enough.”
Reya stared at her mother in shock. “I knew it,” Reya said shakily. “You never cared about me. You only care about yourself. You just wanted to use me for your fifteen minutes of fame.”
“It’ll be more than fifteen minutes of fame,” Mihn sneered derisively. “Unlike you, I’m actually worth something.”
Reya was speechless. “I hate you!” she hissed. “How have you not changed? You’re still the same awful person you were the last time I saw you.”
“Perfection doesn’t need changing,” Mihn said.
“At least I’m not alone like you are. I doubt anybody could stand being with you,” Reya said.
“You mean the musician that you think actually loves you?” Mihn laughed. “Honestly, couldn’t you have picked somebody with an actual future? You couldn’t have chosen a worse partner.”
Reya couldn’t take it anymore. “How dare you say that about him!” she seethed. “You don’t know him. Who are you to judge him? He’s stronger than you’ll ever be. A better person than you’ll ever be. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“A musician has no value,” Mihn said with conviction. “You played soldier for a bit and now you think you can go ahead and mimic your partner? You’ll both end up destitute. Music can’t achieve greatness.”
Reya flushed with indignation. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” she said scathingly. “Clearly you don’t care about me. There’s no point in extending this farce. I don’t know why I even bothered.” She tried her best to cover the hurt her mother’s words caused.
Mihn snorted. “Who are you to dismiss me? I’ll leave when I feel like it. Besides, it would look bad for us to spend so little time together after the show.” Should others learn that their reunion was only a scant couple of minutes, it would be scandal, and that just wouldn’t do. Not when she finally had the opportunity to become the star she was always meant to be.
Reya had had enough. She wouldn’t tolerate being in her mother’s presence any longer. It was a miracle she’d lasted as long as she did. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she looked her mother dead in the eyes and said, “I’m the Silver Star. You being in my presence is a privilege, not the other way around. One you clearly don’t deserve.” She yelled for Jyn and the door flew open. He and Rann entered the room and took stock of the situation. “It’s time for my mother to leave,” Reya said. “Get her out of my sight.”
Jyn took one look at Reya’s hard-set eyes and knew that it was time for her mother to leave. He didn’t know what she’d done to piss Reya off, but clearly she was upset. After all that’d happened to her, he wasn’t going to tolerate that.
Mihn protested but was immediately shut down by Jyn. In the face of two fully armoured soldiers, she had no choice but to acquiesce to their demands. She shot Reya a withering glare when Jyn grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her out of her chair. “You can’t do this to me, I’m a civilian. What would the reporters say if they caught wind of this?”
“Absolutely nothing because they won’t,” Jyn said. “When you came here today, you agreed to play by our rules. Allow me to be very clear to you. There will be no mention of you resisting to be removed from the premises.”
“You can’t stop me from talking to anybody about this,” Mihn said defiantly. “I’m not obliged to listen to you.”
“You’re not,” Jyn acknowledged, “but you won’t like the consequences if you don’t. The military won’t bend around the will of one upset mother, no matter how famous your daughter is.”
“Are you threatening me?” Mihn huffed. “Just wait until the press hears about this! I’ll have you removed from your job.” She looked around wildly. “All of you! I’m related to the Silver Star! People will listen to me when I speak.”
“Stating a fact doesn’t make it a threat,” Jyn warned. “It doesn’t matter to us who you’re related to. You’re nothing to us, but our ire won’t be nothing to you. Consider this your only warning.” With that, he yanked Mihn and dragged her out of the room.
Right before the door closed, Mihn shot one final look back towards Reya, full of self-righteous anger. “You’ll regret this, just you wait and see!”
“So will you,” Reya replied as her mother vanished from sight.
When Miarre returned home that night, she checked every room in her house for intruders. When nobody materialized, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She’d deviated slightly from the orders she’d been given, but she didn’t linger too long on any sensitive topics. She doubted anything bad would come of her inquiry into Reya’s partner and her music.
She turned off the lights and went to bed terrified that somebody would barge into her home and take her away. She flinched at every sound she heard, unable to sleep from the stress.
Nessah’s threats rang clear as day inside her mind, and Miarre prayed to every god hoping that she would be alright.
Reya immediately made for her room when they returned to the safe house without a word. She ignored everybody around her, lost in thought as she drifted along on autopilot towards her place of safety.
Adrian got up off the couch and went to meet Rann and Jyn in the kitchen. “I saw the interview,” he said. “It didn’t look so bad, so why is Reya acting like that?” That he didn’t even get so much as a hello worried him.
“We’re not sure,” Jyn said. “After the interview, she and her mother were alone together for a little bit. We figured it’d be nice for them to have some time together away from prying eyes. That turned out to be a mistake, I think.”
“How so?” Adrian frowned.
“Not long after they isolated themselves, Reya called out for us to remove her mother from the room.” It had struck Jyn as strange that Reya had ordered them to get her mother out of her sight. He recounted the interaction to Adrian so that he understood. “I don’t know what was said while they were together, but Reya had clearly had enough by the time she called for us.”
“It’s more than that,” Rann interjected. “Her mother tried to resist being guided out. Tried to threaten us with bad press should we not listen to her.” She glanced at Jyn. “We didn’t tolerate that, and we made it very clear to her that she was overstepping her bounds. That didn’t stop her from having a conniption.”
“Did you hear anything that was said while you were guarding the door?” Adrian asked. When both Jyn and Rann shook their heads, he thought for a moment. “I’ll go talk to her in a little bit. Right now, I think she needs some time alone.”
They dispersed and Adrian went back to the living room where he continued to watch the news feed. Learning about the a’vaarian society and its intricacies fascinated him. It was rare that he had the opportunity to do so, and he took advantage of it.
After enough time passed, he made his upstairs and knocked gently on the door to his and Reya’s room. “Can I come in?” he asked, knowing full well that Reya would hear him. He waited a moment before the door opened. He entered and took note of Reya’s puffy eyes. They took a seat on the bed. “What happened? I got the barebones from Jyn and Rann, but they weren’t able to give me any real information.”
“She didn’t care,” Reya said sadly. Tears brimmed her eyes once more. “After almost ten years, all she did was criticize me. Not a single positive thing.” She went in detail about the conversation she had with her mother while they were alone after the interview.
Adrian was stunned. By the time Reya was done recounting her story, he definitively didn’t like her mother. “How dare she,” he said, trying his best to tamper down his anger. “She knows nothing about what happened or the incredible person you’ve become in her absence.”
“It’s more than that.” Reya sniffed. “Somehow, she made it all about herself. I’m supposed to be nothing more than dirt hidden in the shadow of her supposed greatness. She has the exact same ego problems I remember her having when I ran away from home.” Reya pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. “You said my parents would regret losing their child.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “She didn’t. I bet you she was even happier when I was gone than when I was in her life.”
Adrian was at a loss. For him, family was incredibly important. That a mother would so callously disregard their child was as foreign and alien to him as the gru’ul were. “Before I would’ve said there’s no way that’s possible, but after what you’ve told me those words would only sound hollow now. While I hope that’s not the case, we’ll never truly know unless we ask her.”
Reya’s eyes drooped. “I don’t want to see her anytime soon. Nothing good ever comes from it. She even had the audacity to criticize you and your music without ever having met you. When she insulted me, that I could handle. But when she tried to make you out to be worthless something snapped, and I had Jyn remove her. Forcefully.”
All Adrian could do was gather her into a warm, loving hug. Reya leaned into him, and the pair stayed together for a long while, neither one ready to let go of the other any time soon.
