Lines of Grey - chapter 4

They moved him to a proper hospital room about an hour later once they determined that he was no longer in any danger.  In a way, Dakar wished they hadn’t, as the regular nursing staff most likely wouldn’t know about his kind.  At least with Hilasia, Zescus and even Nyla, he could talk freely to them: here not so much.

I suppose one plus to this arrangement is that I have my own room with its own private bath, Dakar thought as he lay in the bed.  Not much of a plus in my opinion though.  With it still being night, not much activity was going on in general here, which meant not many came in to check on him, since they would assume he would be sleeping.  He try to do just that, sleep, but that turned out to be a fruitless endeavor and nothing good was on TV either.  So all he could do was think, which quickly got boring and repetitive.  All he had to look forward to was release, when he then had to do more waiting for Nyla to leave work so he could ensure Krido didn’t go for her then.

“I can tell you have a lot on your mind, Dakar.”

Dakar nearly jumped out of his carapace at the voice.  He looked up to see Elder Meda Miroris standing over him.  She was tall and hauntingly beautiful, her attire in the style of flowing robes of a bygone era, with dark blue eyes showing the wisdom of over a millennia of life.  “Elder Miroris,” Dakar said once he had shoved his heart back into his chest where it belonged.  “I didn’t think the bathroom mirror would be big enough.”

“It was…a tight fit,” Meda admitted.  Along with mirror sight: the ability to see current happening through any reflective surface, she could also mirror walk.  That ability, naturally, was more restrictive, as not only did the mirror itself have to be big enough, but also had had to have a clear, undistorted reflection.  “I would have come sooner, but the location you were in before would have had too many witnesses to my coming.”

“Yeah, the ER not really suitable for pulling a sudden appearing act, though the looks on their faces probably would have been worth it….”

Meda smirked at that, but her face quickly turned serious.  “Thyler showed me what he found, as he did with you.  You were wise to have him return to the Sanctuary to inform me of the intrusion, but not so wise to pursue the intruder yourself on your hunting day:  you’re lucky to have survived.”

Dakar took the scolding graciously, knowing she was right: it had been foolish to pursue Krido at that time.  “So you saw my fight with him?” he asked.

“No, only the aftermath, and even then not much due to poor surfaces to see through,” she said with a sigh.  “I would like to know what I missed.”

“Of course, Elder,” Dakar said, holding out his arm.  Thankfully, she seemed to understand why he didn’t want her to take the blood from his neck, as she sank her fangs into the crook of his elbow.  Unlike Thyler, he didn’t flinch and didn’t need to be reminded to focus on what ended to be shown.  She didn’t need to take much to get what she needed.

“You have been indeed, very lucky, this night,” she said once she took a moment to process the information.  “Not only were you sent to a hospital that had staff whom had knowledge of our kind, but they had a patient they didn’t mind you feeding from.  Personally, I think you were way too considerate in that man’s regard: I would have still killed him.”

“Rantus?  Yeah…though I nearly did.”

“You need to be more careful, Dakar,” Meda said in a more worried tone this time.  “The foolish mistakes you made could have cost you not only your life, but the sect’s second eldest member.  You know all too well that that we cannot afford to lose anyone right now.”

Dakar simply nodded in acknowledgement.  Due to the sect split a few years ago, he was indeed, the second oldest vakar in the sect.  This split wasn’t due to size or territory changes, but due to a disagreement between then Lord Etanus Mizarcus and Elder Miroris.  Mizarcus wanted to modernize the sect to better mesh with current turian society, but Miroris flatly refused due to fears that very technology would bring about their doom.  

She ended up being partly right, as soon after the split, Mizarcus’ sect ended up being raided by hastatim when the local government intercepted their communications:  they mistook them for a local terrorist cell.  From what he heard, several members of that sect were slain before Mizarcus was able to prove what they really were.  After that, Dakar hadn’t heard anything about them, at least not from his own sources:  Miroris likely knew, but chose not to say anything for whatever reason.

“On to the situation at hand…,” Meda continued, drawing his attention back to the present.  “Your plan to help protect Nyla is a good one, but my advice is to find some way to bite her.”

Dakra raised a ridge at this.  “Why?  I shouldn’t need to feed until after my next fight with Krido at the earliest,” he asked.

“One: from what I saw she is going to be very reluctant to tell you why Krido may be after her, so the only way to get that information may be through minushin,”  Meda said flatly.  “Second:  you know about donor servants and the glyphs that protect them from being bitten by vakar not from the sect they are bound to, yes?”  Dakar found himself nodding anyway despite knowing she already knew he knew this.  “Biting her will have a similar, if temporary, effect.  It will buy you both much needed time should Krido catch you off guard again.”

He nodded again, this time with understanding, as he did not know this.  Rather embarrassing that he didn’t, to be honest, considering how long he had been a vakar.  Then again, it’s rare for a sect to have to deal with an intruding vakar like this to begin with.  “I will do my best to follow your advice, Elder,” Dakar said.  “Anything else I should know?”

“Just this, Dakar:  Krido seems to be very one track minded,” she said.  “Despite nearly losing an arm to your shadowfire, he, thus far, has refused to feed on another to help the regeneration process.”

“Which means he will be desperate…and I should prepare myself for a nasty fight.”

“Indeed, which means that despite you having the advantage strength wise this time, his desperation will surely be an effective counter to it.”  Meda suddenly glanced at the door.  “I should go now, before a nurse comes in wondering about whom you are talking to after visitor hours.  Good luck with the hunt, Dakar…and be careful.”

“I will, Elder.  Thank you.”

He watched as Meda slipped back into the bathroom and just in time.  Just then, the door to his room opened and a nurse poked his head in.  “Sir, everything alright in here?” he said.

“Everything is fine, nurse,” Dakar said.  “Just a bit of trouble sleeping, that’s all.”

“Oh, did you want me to get a sleep aid for you?”

Dakar was already shaking his head.  “No, I’m just not used to sleeping at night:  night owl type, you see.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, let us know if you need anything, alright?”

“I will.”

As the nurse closed the door once more, Dakar folded his arms behind his head and sighed.  The information on Krido’s condition Meda just gave him was interesting.  It seemed the bastard did have enough honor and self-control not to jump on the first turian that walked by while in his condition.  Still, the Elder was right on one thing:  with Krido injured as he is, he will most definitely be going for Nyla at first opportunity and it will be a hard fight to keep him from her….

--

A few hours later….

At last her shift was ending, though for once, Nyla wasn’t sure she wanted to leave.

Ever since that conversation with that vakar, she’d been feeling uneasy and jumpy.  Uneasy because she found out this shift that some myths were real and that one of those myths may be stalking her.  Sure, Dakar said he would escort her, protect her, but how did she know he wasn’t the rogue one and was just lying through his mandibles?

If they were all normal turians once, they should have the same aversion to lying as us, the logical part of Nyla’s mind told her.  He also had every opportunity to attack her during the time she was alone in the room with him, but he didn’t.  But that could be because he didn’t have a surefire way to get out without getting caught, a paranoid part of her countered.  Letting him walk you home…then come ‘into’ your home is a surefire way to ensure no one knows what happened until you don’t show up for your next shift!

Nyla shook her head as she put her nurse jacket away, for it was pointless to have doubts about it now.  After all, she agreed to Dakar’s idea and as an honest turian she had to follow through with it.  Maybe I should borrow Hilasia’s taser in case he tries to pull anything.

“Hey, Nyla.”

Nyla nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around and nearly punched Hilasia in the face.  The older turian was rather surprised by the response.  “Jeez, Hilasia!” she said as relaxed her stance.  “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You’ve been tense…well…tenser ever sense you had that chat with Dakar a few hours ago.  You alright?”

Nyla sighed and rubbed her head, not sure how to explain it, or if she even should.  “I-I should be…just that some of things Dakar talked about it hit a bit…close to home.”

“Need someone to talk about it?”

“Maybe another time, Hilasia,” Nyla said, shaking her head.  “I just want to get home and go to bed.”

“Fair enough.  Just so you know, you’ll be working the ER again tonight:  I took a peek at the schedule.”

“Ugh…at least I know ahead of time this time.”  Provided I make it through the day..., she thought bitterly.  “I’ll see you tonight, Hilasia.”

“See you, Nyla, take care.”

Nyla stepped outside, partly expecting to be jumped the moment she was fully exposed.  Someone did, indeed, approach her and at first she feared it was the rogue Dakar spoke of, especially once she saw a hint of fangs.  Then she recognized the grey-gold face markings and grey eyes.  “Dakar?” she asked.

“Correct,” Dakar said with a smile.  “Shall we get going?  The sooner you get home, the safer you’ll be.”  

Nyla had to agree with that.  She wanted to ask him about how he felt being out in sunlight, but with so many other turians starting to go about their daily routines, it felt unwise to speak of vakar related subjects within public earshot.  Yet, she felt the need to talk about something, so she focused on his attire.  “I’m surprised your overcoat wasn’t ripped to shreds while you were bed bound,” she commented.

“My trenchcoat?  Why do you say that?”  Dakar said, looking at her.

“It’s human.”

“So?”

“Please…I was only four when it happened, but even I know about the Relay 314 incident!”

“Oh yes, that,” Dakar said, sounding unconcerned.  “I did get some nasty glares after putting it on while being checked out.  To be perfectly honest though, we jumped the guns in that incident.”

Nyla stopped in her tracks and glared at him, realizing that the ‘we’ part of his comment was directed at turians as a whole.  “How can you say that!” she snapped.  “The humans were about to blindly open a relay with no knows what was on the other side!  Their recklessness could have caused another Rachni War!”

Dakar was just tilting his head at her, a sad, yet knowing look in his eyes.  Then he leaned forward and whispered.  “If there is one thing we vakar learn during our long lives, it is how to see the big picture.”

“What do you mean?”  Nyla asked as she found herself being coaxed forward with some eagerness.  Remembering that she was in greater danger the longer she stayed outside, she continued walking.

“While willful interactions with other Citadel species is very limited, we do read up and study about them.  That includes their history, their side of the story.  In the human’s case, we turians as a whole failed to consider their side of the story in the heat of the moment.  There is a reason why the humans refer to the Relay 314 incident as the First Contact War, for instance.”

“I’m still not getting it,” Nyla grumbled.

Dakar sighed in apparent frustration.  “Open your mind and think, Nyla,” he persisted.  “What does ‘first contact’ typically mean?”

Nyla growled faintly at the implication she was being ignorant.  “Basically, it means the first time someone encountered something,” she replied.  “But what does that….”  Her mouth snapped shut when the full meaning in context of the conversation hit her.  “Spirits!  You’re not trying to suggestion that turians were the first ever sentient species the humans have encountered….”

“That I am,” Dakar said.  “Well, confirmed contact:  they been having supposed visits and even abductions by ‘aliens’ for centuries beforehand, but as they expanded into their own home system and beyond, all they found was traces of a species long since extinct.  The more relays they activated, the less reason they had to believe they would ever come in contact with another living sentient species.”

“Until we literally blew them away when we found them…,” Nyla muttered.  “Spirits…why didn’t we think of that back then?  Why did we assume they were acting about of arrogance rather than ignorance?  Did we even try to communicate with them before opening fire?”

“Do not let yourself fall to despair over an event you were too young to participate in yourself,” Dakar warned.  “The humans have a saying:  hindsight is always 20/20.  We will always see the past with a clearer mind than we did at that time.  That said, what is done is done.  Learn from the past, acknowledge that it happened, but also never forget it:  the past has a habit of repeating itself if you do.”

“Heh…you remind me of my grandfather,” Nyla said softly.  “And you look only a third of his age.”

Dakar just chuckled at that.

--

The rest of the trip was made in silence, to which Dakar was grateful as it enabled him to focus more on their surroundings.  With it being daylight now, Krido wouldn’t be able to use his abilities to easily sneak up on them, if he still had the energy to even use them in the first place.  However, Dakar’s own abilities were suppressed as well, which evened the field a bit.  So constant vigilance was still needed to ensure Krido didn’t snatch Nyla in a moment of inattention.  Fortunately, he saw no sign of Krido by the time they reached Nyla’s home, which was a modest apartment.

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” Nyla said as she opened the door and went in.

Dakar followed her in and was impressed by how orderly and clean everything looked, but it did bother him a bit that there wasn’t much in the way of décor.  What furniture there was, he noticed, was either a dark earthen color or made of easy to clean materials like plastic and glass.  There were no pictures on the walls, no knickknacks or other show pieces on the tables or mantle, not even a vase of flowers, real or fake.  “For someone with such an interesting personality, I’m surprised you don’t have more in the way of décor,” he commented as he took off his trenchcoat and hung it on the coat rack.

“I keep to the essentials only,” Nyla replied as he watched her suddenly walk over to the coat rack and adjusted how his trenchcoat hung off it slightly.  “Anything more would just mean more things to keep in order and dust.  I hate chaos…I hate not being in control.”

Great, she has OCD, he thought as he walked over to the couch and sat down.  “And yet…you choose to work in a hospital and the ER of all places…where chaos likes to show up often.”

“I have my reasons for choosing such a profession,” Nyla said flatly.  “And me getting put into the ER is the head doctor’s idea of a joke I think.  Or a test to see how well I can keep myself under control….”  The pupils of her eyes widened suddenly as she snapped.  “Get your damn feet off the coffee table!  It’s not a footstool!”

“Eep!  Sorry!” Dakar said as he quickly pulled said feet off the table.  He watched as Nyla disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and came back with some cleaner and a rag.  She then vigorously washed the table where his feet had been, muttering something about how someone as old as him show know basic manners.

Spirits and the elder wants me to bite her? he thought.  Sure, she seemed curious enough about vakar, but with her OCD, getting her to let him bite her may just be impossible.  Of course, that depended on whether or not her OCD extended to her physical appearance and not the environment around her.

“Now,” Nyla said after she finished cleaning the coffee table.  “I’m going fix me a bite to eat.  I’d ask what you want, but you already told me normal food doesn’t do jack for you…yet…I’d feel like a bad host if I didn’t give you something.”

“Unfortunately, I do not require anything at this time, Nyla,” Dakar replied with a shrug.

“Not even a glass of water?”

Dakar shook his head.  “We get everything we need from the blood we drink, including hydration.”

“Alright, fine,” Nyla muttered.  “If you change your mind though, let me know.”

“I will.”

After Nyla disappeared into the kitchen, Dakar laid down on the couch and sighed.  He really wanted to go to sleep, since it was now his normal time for it, but he wanted to figure out a way to bite Nyla before he fell asleep.  If he fell asleep now, he won’t wake up again until sunset and then it may be too late, and yet if he forced himself to stay awake to try to figure it out, he may not get enough sleep and wind up at a disadvantage again when Krido showed up.  

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, he thought bitterly.  Dakar could try to seduce her, as it was obvious from before that she liked how he looked, but he was never of fan of ‘sneaking bites’ during the act of sex.  No, in cases like this where the bitee was atypical, he much prefer him or her to know what he was going to do beforehand and thus be willing.  Maybe I should just tell her what the bite would do, he thought with a sigh.  But I’ve told her so much…too much…about us already. Then he started to smell what Nyla was cooking.  Ah, hell…of all things…why’d it have to be iagus?

Iagus was a type of steak typically cooked in a sweet sauce, usually expensive as well.  He and his sister had loved it and ate it whenever they could, which was rare considering they were orphans: the orphanage they were at only rarely offered it.  However, iagus was also the last thing they had ate together before….

I need to get away from the smell, Dakar thought getting up from the cough.  He couldn’t afford to relive the memories of that day again, not so soon.  Looking around, he spied the bathroom and the shower within.  That should work, he thought as he headed for it.  I could use a shower anyway to get all the hospital stink off me.

He quickly stripped and stepped into the stall, noting the smell of iagus had yet to fully penetrate this room.  Quickly, he got the water going, hoping to drown out what smell there was.  However it was too late, for memories of a time long past had already started to flood his mind….