Conflict of Interest - Chapter 2

“We are?”  Dakarus said, looking at the lamp and the wall behind it with confusion.  “But I don’t see anything but a wall….” 

“Things are not always what they seem to be, my dear Dakarus,” Meda said with a smile as she approached the wall and knocked, making an obvious hollow sound.  A moment later, the ‘wall’ opened, revealing Etanus on the other side. 

“Welcome home, Elder,” Etanus said, bowing slightly, before stepping aside to let them in.  He then looked over at Dakarus, whom gave him a wary look as he passed.  “This must be our new candidate.” 

“He is,” Meda confirmed.  “This is Dakarus Kroisun.  Dakarus, this is Master Etanus Mizarcus:  he will be one of your caretakers once the process has started.” 

“Hello, Mister Mizarcus,” Dakarus said. 

“Master Mizarcus,” Etanus corrected, a brief scowl flashing across his face as he closed the door.  “Always address your seniors by their title and codename.” 

“My apologies, Master Mizarcus….” 

“He’s not yet a vakar, Mizarcus,” Meda reminded him.  “No need to be so harsh on greeting etiquette just yet.” 

At that Etanus snorted.  “The earlier we start the better, in my opinion.” 

“Assure you it is not needed:  Dakarus is a quick learner.  Now….”  Meda looked around and saw to her dismay that most of the other vakar were still present.  “Why aren’t most of you out on your hunts?” 

“They wanted to see the new potential before you isolate him:  I saw no reason to force them to leave,” Etanus responded.

Meda growled faintly at the explanation.  She didn’t fault them for being curious, as all vakar were curious to some degree, though some were obsessively so.  However, there was a fine line between satisfying that curiosity and being irresponsible, even reckless.  “What is more important, Mizarcus?” she asked with a faint scowl, briefly exposing more of her fangs.  “Doing our duty, or seeing the new candidate?”

At this, Etanus paled.  “Our duty, Elder,” he said, turning his head away, looking embarrassed.

“You heard him,” Meda said, glaring at the other vakar.  “Go do your duty before the night grows too old to find a meal!”

At those words, nearly half the vakar quickly filed out of the sanctuary, though many paused briefly to get a closer look at Dakarus, whom seemed a bit overwhelmed by the number of them.  “Do not forget dispersion protocols!”  Etanus called out after them, no doubt to try to save a little face.

“I didn’t think there would be so many of you in one place,” Dakarus said once the door was shut again. 

“Our sect size is dependent on the number of potential targets,” Meda explained as she led him deeper into the sanctuary.  The vakar that didn’t need to hunt were going about their usual routines, mainly cleaning and assisting the younger vakar in whatever they needed, though a couple did study Dakarus for a moment before returning to what they were doing.  “Since we have claimed part of the capital city as our territory, we can afford to have more members.  Still, unless something happens, you will likely be the last turn for some time.” 

“If I turn,” Dakarus said softly.  “You said you only claimed part of the city though:  does that mean….” 

“Yes, some other parts of the city have been claimed by other sects.  We are currently the largest, however, so our place here is secure.” 

“So the other sects can be a threat?” 

“Usually only the ones that are not settled.”  Meda said as she pushed back the curtain that served as the door to her quarters.  “There have been times when sects were forced to seek a new territory for one reason or another.  Most of the time when they realize they have intruded on a claimed territory they will willingly move on elsewhere.  However, if the intruders realize the controlling sect is weak in some way….” 

“They try to take it over,” Dakarus correctly guessed as he looked around the new room.  “Does it always result in bloodshed?” 

“Not always,” Meda said as she closed the curtain again.  “Sometimes the two sects agree to merge.  Put your bag down over here, Dakarus.” 

She watched as he put his bag down as she directed, then straightened up and looked at her with a ‘what now’ expression on his face.  Meda mentally sighed, preparing herself for what was to come next and a small part of her wanted to turn him away, to not risk his life.  However, he had chosen to come this far…. 

“Listen and listen well, Dakarus Kroisun,” she began.  “I have observed you, tested you and deemed you fit to take the chance at becoming one of us.  I have made it clear from the outset that you had a choice:  you could have told me at any time that you did not want this and I would have honored it.  You chose to come this far, but now I must warn you, that you are about to reach the point of no return.  I say this, because once the process starts, it cannot be stopped.  You must see it to the end.  Whether you turn or not, live or die.” 

She stepped closer to him as she continued.  “If you choose to continue, you will soon experience intense fevers, bouts of pain, chills, hot flashes and even hallucinations.  Your life will hang by a single fragile thread most of the way.  I, and the others, will not be able to help you, aside from comfort, words of encouragement and occasional drinks of water:  this will be a trial you must undertake on your own.  But like I said, you must choose this.” 

Now she reached out and placed a hand on the side of his face.  “There is still time to return to your old life, Dakarus,” she said softly, a part of her hoping he would.  “You do not have to put yourself though this.  It is not too late to change your mind.  Do you still want to do through with this?” 

“I do,” Dakarus replied with almost no hesitation.  “For much of my life, I struggled to find a place where I belonged and to make a real difference.  I couldn’t find it among proper turians and jobs, with their rigid social structure and laws.  Do you know how I felt when I first walked into this place?” 

“What is that, Dakarus?” 

“I….”  Dakar looked at her with a smile, his mandibles trembling with joy.  “I felt for the first time I had come home.” 

Meda felt a bit stunned by the revelation, but she returned the smile as she backed away once more.  “It is not your home yet, Dakarus,” she said.  “But let us see if we can ensure that it becomes your home.  Take off your shirt, please.”  Once he had done so, she said.  “One last thing before we start and it’s very important: the oath.  Do you, Dakarus Kroisun, no matter what happens from this point forward, swear to keep our secrets and our existence, out of the hands that do not need to know to the best of your ability?” 

“I do,” Dakarus replied eagerly. 

“Very good.  Now we may start the true test.”   

“Wait, I thought there would more to the oath thing,” Dakarus asked, looking confused. 

“There is, but you need to successfully turn first before they can be applicable.” 

“Oh, that makes sense.” 

“Any other questions?” 

“No, Elder.” 

She smiled at how he addressed her:  he was indeed a quick learner.  However she was also pained, as soon, their relationship, their bond, will go no further than that of a mother and child, a leader and subordinate.  He would never be an equal, someone she could truly show love toward.  Having another vakar that was ‘unrelated’ do this would negate that somewhat, but while she did have one such vakar in this sect, Etanus, it was clear from their first meeting Dakarus didn’t trust him and trust was so important with this.  No, being a mother, a leader, to him will have to be enough.  It must be enough. 

Knowing that any hesitation on her part would make him start questioning her resolve, she gripped him by both shoulders.  “For this next part, you must trust me,” she said.  “I will need to drink your blood, to the point where you start to feel faint.  You can assist me by telling me when you reach that point, understood?” 

“I understand.”  There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, but who wouldn’t be knowing what was about to happen?  Spirits, being this close to him, she could smell his scent, see every detail on his half-naked body.  Every dark warm grey plate was practically begging her to touch it, the temptation to trace a talon over his gold colony markings was so strong and she felt she could just stare into his silver eyes forever.  She was so close to just forgetting about the turning business and just take him to bed with her. 

I am being selfish, she told herself.  Remember my duty…remember what he wants.  I need to focus. 

Meda focused on the task at hand and the gnawing hunger in her belly as she leaned forward and started licking the base of his neck.  She felt Dakarus tense briefly under her grip, before resting his chin on her shoulder.  Only once she felt her salvia had done its job of numbing the area, did she bite and start taking in his blood.  He was such a good boy:  he barely even flinched at that, though the numbing likely helped. 

Then came his memories. 

He had told her a few times before how he felt lonely, out of place: now she could see and feel it for herself though minushin.  She saw how awkward he felt at social events, wanting to join in but being largely ignored.  There were a couple of times a woman seemed to be interested him, but it would turn out all she wanted was ‘de-stress sex’, leaving him heartbroken and lonely in the morning.  Then there was the frustration with this job.  Too many times, the criminals he caught would be either let go due to ‘lack of evidence’ or not be punished harshly enough in his opinion.  It kept getting him into trouble with his superiors and colleagues, leaving him feeling more and more isolated. 

Isolated, I know that feeling all too well, Meda thought.  She had plenty of friends, equals, during her time as a younger vakar.  However, as she rose in the ranks, if only by necessity, not by want, she felt more and more lonely.  She never felt comfortable discussing small things with those below her, let alone her worries and concerns, as she feared her subordinates would think less of her if she showed such weakness.  The only exception was Lord Nophia Meinis, as they had been friends since they were both runovus, but she still felt awkward even with her.  A leader had to have the confidence of those below them, especially those close to them:  if they didn’t, they may leave, or worse, stage a mutiny. 

Being a leader, was often a lonely business…. 

“El-Elder…,” Dakarus’ voice broke into her thoughts.  “I’m….” 

He didn’t need to say anything more.  Meda stopped drinking and pulled her fangs from his neck:  she gave the wound a couple of quick licks to ensure it will heal properly.  She would have stepped back, but from how heavily Dakarus was leaning into her, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  Instead, she steered him toward her bed and had him sit upon it.  “Focus on staying conscious,” she said.  “You need to be awake for the next part.” 

Dakarus nodded and she watched as he put his head between his legs to help get more blood to his head.  It seemed to help, as his voice was steadier the next time he spoke.  “What is next, Elder?” 

“You will need to drink my blood,” Meda said as she turned away, taking off her outer garment and setting it the beds headboard. 

“Heh, should have guessed that, considering what I’m trying to become.” 

“You’d be surprised at how many guess wrong when trying to figure this out on their own.”  By how she had taken off her upper undergarment, revealing her pale body plates to him for the first time.  She caught herself wondering what he thought of her appearance and had to resist the temptation to look back at him to find out.  Meda forced herself to focus on preparing his ‘drink’ and for that she needed some helpful items she kept a supply of in her dresser.  A thick rubber cord, a sterile IV needle complete with attached tubing and a clean glass of the size she felt was appropriate for Dakarus. 

“How much will I need to drink?” Dakarus asked. 

“It can be difficult to gauge,” she said as she tied a thick rubber cord around her upper arm.  “Everyone is different and it can be tricky to get it right.  If I don’t, the process will fail.” 

“I have faith in you, Elder.” 

It was comforting to hear him say that.  In fact, it helped her focus on what needed to be done.  This part of the process was a delicate balancing act where she had to take into account Dakarus’ body shape and weight.  Too much and it will kill him, but too little and not only will he fail to turn, he would have forever lost the opportunity to become a vakar.  She had to get it right, like she had many times before.  Otherwise, she may never forgive herself. 

She winced when she inserted the IV needle into her arm, making sure she hit a major blood vessel.  Meda pinched part of the tubing to keep the blood from flowing out until she had the open end in the glass.  Then she released her hold and watched as a steady flow of her blood started to fill the glass.  When the flow started to slow, she undid the rubber cord. 

As she waited, her mind drifted a bit too how the vakar that turned her did this.  He had her take the blood directly from an open wound on his neck, a method she realized was rather risky.  Since measuring how much the candidate drinks was important, drinking directly from the wound would have made that very difficult to gauge.  She was lucky:  many others were not so lucky.  So she devised a way to increase the odds of success and from her track record, it was a good one.  She had hoped her technique would be used by the other vakar old enough to turn people, but so far, they had opted for the ‘traditional’ ways. 

The glass was full, so she stopped the flow and pulled out the needle, wincing once more as she did so, and tossed it into a waste bin for later disposal.  She was still bleeding a little from the small wound, but that will heal up in a moment or so thanks to the regeneration abilities all vakar had.  Meda didn’t bother redressing as she picked up the glass and returned to Dakarus.  “Here,” she said as she handed him the glass.  “You will need to drink all of this.” 

Dakarus blinked at the glass as he accepted it, looking rather surprised.  “This is more than what I was expecting,” he admitted as she sat down beside him.  “I’ll do my best.” 

“Never tasted blood before?”  she asked. 

“I have, once, when some asshole punched me in the face during boot camp.  Not the taste that bothers me but the amount.” 

Perhaps that’s why so many prefer the ‘traditional’ way, Meda mused as Dakarus tentatively started to drink.  When taking the blood directly from a wound, the candidate had little to no concept of how much they were taking in.  Plus they were taking the blood in ‘spurts’ as they had to lap it up with their tongues, since they lacked the fangs specially designed to suck the blood out.  Here, not only was there the visual confirmation on how much they were drinking but there were no real ‘breaks’ from the taste.  Granted, not being bothered by the taste of blood was pretty much a requirement to succeed in being a vakar. 

So far though, Dakarus was handling it fairly well, having drank half the glass so far.  This is the true point of no return, Meda thought as she watched him take a brief break before continuing.  There is no turning back now…spirits…I hope this is the right thing to do for you. 

“Awo…,” he said with a faint cough as he finished.  “That was rough…but I managed.” 

“And you did it quicker than other’s I’ve watched,” Meda said with a smile, patting him on the back. 

“So…what now?” 

“Now…,” Meda sighed.  “You rest and wait.  For the next week, your body will be fighting against turning into a vakar.” 

“Something like fighting the flu, from what you told me before…,” Dakarus said as she helped him to his feet. 

“I’m afraid it will likely be worse than that, Dakarus,” Meda warned as she put her clothing back on.  “I will be blunt:  there will likely come a point that you will want to give up and just die.” 

“Shit….” 

“This will be the greatest test of your will and endurance.  If you want to give yourself the best chance of making it through, remind yourself of why you are doing this.  Cling to it like nothing else matters.” 

“I…I will do my best, Elder.” 

“That is all I can ask of you.  Come.”  She gently started to lead him out of her quarters.  Once in the gathering room, she took him to a spare, empty small bedroom that was close to her own quarters.  “This is where you will stay during this time,” she said as she helped him into the bed.  “If you need anything, you call for myself, Master Mizarcus, or Master Shintus: one of us will always be available.  Understood?” 

“Understood, Elder.” 

“Rest now, Dakarus…and good luck.” 

Meda returned to her quarters and leaned against a wall, her body suddenly starting to tremble.  It was out of her hands, out of her control, what Dakarus’ fate will be now.  All she can do now is wait.  In honesty, she wasn’t sure who was going through the bigger trial:  Dakarus…or herself.