Vio survived, just. The team got it into its stasis cell before any of its major organs – several of which had suffered spectacular damage – gave up. The shuttle blasted up through the Tyranid picket line with the usual ease, and made a rendezvous with the corvette Arkon used as a base, the True Path.
After a few hours the Inquisitor's chief biologis reported in. The man was exhausted, dishevelled and drenched in sweat. He had stablised the gaunt and was confident he could repair the damage the Ravener had done to all its critical organs. As hard as that would be, he was completely at a loss as to what could be done about the Tyranid's missing limbs. He was just starting to go into detail when there was a cry from one of his assistants in the bay where Vio was being treated. Some equipment started screeching an alarm and the biologis swore and ran back inside. Arkon decided to leave him to it, knowing his presence was only adding pressure to the situation. He didn't envy the scientist one bit. Understanding of Tyranid biology was being improved at a rapid rate, but all that effort was being put into killing them, not keeping them alive. Arkon knew how much the biologis had invested in the gaunt. Not only did he understand the importance of the project, but he had lead all the work in converting the creature. On the plus side, that stood him as the best person in the galaxy to save it.
Arkon returned to his research, but after a couple of hours his stomach was growling in a manner that was not ignorable. The Inquisitor gave in, setting his work to one side and making his way down to the ship's mess. He always ate among the regulars, instead of with the officers in the wardroom. He had started his career in as a guardsman, and felt more at home there. None of the troops ever dared sit with him of course, so the only time he had company were those rare occasions when another high-ranking officer deigned to join him. Still, he enjoyed the noise and chaos the mess provided.
Even away from his desk his research was impossible to ignore, and he was deep in thought when there was a thud beside him as someone dropped ungraciously into the next spot on the bench. As he turned to acknowledge them Flint was already greeting him. "Afternoon chief."
Arkon was taken aback by the scout's familiarity, but his pleasure at the company eclipsed any ire he should have felt at the lack of protocol. "Flint. How are you?"
"Bit duffed up but surviving." The guardsman grinned. "You certainly know how to find trouble."
Arkon wasn't sure how to take that. "I assure you today was not supposed to be as... interesting... as it turned out."
"Don't sweat it. I love these secret little incursions. So much more rewarding than a campaign that boils down to retreat after retreat. In fact..." Flint leaned in close. "... I've put in a request to be transferred under your command permenantly."
Arkon nodded. He hadn't got Flint completely figured out, but the man's skills were undeniable. "I think that can be arrange."
"Good!" Flint smacked the Inquisitor on the shoulder. "I can't wait to really get involded with your... team." He lingered on that last word, turning his attention to a third person who was taking the place opposite him.
Kay gave them both a smile as she greeted them "Inquisitor. Flint." Arkon gave her a nod and a tight smile. He hadn't seen Kay in the mess since Raynor died. She had been her usual exceptional self on the mission, but back here he would have expected her to go back into her shell. Something had obviously changed.
Flint took a moment from stuffing his face to give her a more vocal greeting. "Hello gorgeous." He gestured to her bandaged shoulder with his fork. "How's the trophy scar?"
She paused a second while she tested its motion, gauging her progress in recovering. "Surprisingly solid. I think I got lucky with the hit. You're right though, definitely going to have a scar."
The guardsman shrugged. "I've got a few myself. And I bet the boss isn't exactly flawless, even with all his fancy armour."
Arkon shook his head wryfully. "No, I've certainly picked up a couple. Hazard of the job."
"Damn right." Flint re-centred his attention on Kay. "So don't you worry about it."
Kay gave a quiet laugh, and Arkon felt his spirits rise, less the prettiness of the sound and more what it signified. After the trauma of Raynor's death the old Kay was on her way back. "You think this'll be my first scar?" Kay rolled up her sleeve, showing a long mark that went from wrist to elbow. "Hormagaunt, ironically. And I have... a couple more."
Flint raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to show me them all some time."
The innuedo wasn't lost on the woman, and her mouth formed a little 'O' of surprise, before changing to a embarrased smile, but whilst it was meant for Flint she shot Arkon a quick glance. The Inquisitor remained impassive, but internally Flint's advance had rankled him. He could justify that. Kay was a part of his team, had a special type of naviety due to her background, and was worthy of his protection.
Before the atmosphere could get awkward she turned to Arkon. "How's Vio?"
"It'll survive." Arkon's tone carried little hope. "Beyond that we don't know."
"You sound like you care?!" Flint was surprised by Kay's compassion.
"Of course I care."
"But you hate those things." The guardsman screwed his face up. "We all do."
"No." Kay shook her head, then stopped suddenly. "I mean, yes. The hive fleets, the encroaching darkness, the irristable tide that's trying to drown the galaxy and all its life.-" she was getting worked up "-That is an unfront to all that's good and right and must be stopped."
She calmed "But Vil and Vio aren't part of that anymore. We've liberated them, now they've joined us to stand against the evil."
Flint shook his head. "But only because we're forcing them. Without all those technical doodads the Inquisitor here has bolted to them they'd kill us in a second."
Kay scoffed. "They could try."
"But my point is this:" Flint ignored her challenge. "They've not chosen to join us. They're soldiers – prisoners – from an army like any other. No different from Orks or Chaos. Their only goal is our complete and utter destruction."
"I disagree." Arkon said "I've studied these things. I know how they work. They're... a force of nature, more than anything. They're just following their programming, there's no ill intent." As he spoke he instinctively looked around, checking he wasn't being overheard, even in a place a safe as his own ship. His views on the enemy were usually considered controversial at best.
Their views were not sitting well with Flint. When he next spoke there was an edge in his voice. "You can't be justifying these things! After everything they've done."
"Arkon's right." Kay instinctive leaped to his defence, then stopped and delicately covered her mouth, her cheeks reddening with embarrasment of her unplanned over-familiarty with her superior officer. "I mean, the Inquisitor is right. He knows these things. And he's shown us the importance of staying rational."
Arkon nodded his agreement. "It's because they're so different. Against normal foes righteous anger is your greatest tool. But zeal and rage have no affect on an enemy that cannot begn to comprehend them." He leaned back in his seat. "Of course, that only applies up here, forming strategies. On the battle lines, get angry."
Flint wasn't buying his view, instead it was just earning more ire. The reason was quickly apparent. "I can't believe you'd give one slice of anything but hatred and damnation to these monsters. Noone who's seen them up close should. With all due respect Inquisitor you're just talking about your research. You haven't had to watch as they destroy everything you hold dear."
All of a sudden Arkon was back on the streets that fateful night, running from the screams. He blinked a couple of times, trying to force the memories from his mind. He had enough success to answer Flint's accusation. "Yes, I have."
