Warsong (Hunter-Killer #2)

Chapter 23 - Never-Fading Echoes

The medical centre in the forward command base was around half full. Scraegans didn't leave a lot of wounded, and many of the frontline units had little choice but to triage where they were, not wanting to risk their casualties being caught in an enemy counter attack.

Ryke walked through it carefully, doing his best to dodge fast-moving orderlies and combat medics, attempting to block out the smattering of agonized screams that tore through the main tent. The ground beneath his feet was surprisingly clean as men and women scrubbed the place with ruthless efficiency. Infection was probably more deadly than any bodily harm might have been given the advances in trauma treatment on Rychter.

Most of the people he could see were militia or scout troops, but he could see non-combatants as well, people from the support staff of the human army: cooks, technicians and adjutants who normally wouldn't have come within miles of a place like this. Then Ozzmar happened and all of that changed.

He found her on a bed near the back, propped up against the pillows and looking a lot more like her old self than she had for several days. Ivy lounged with a bored expression on her face, a fresh set of Engineering Cadre overalls clinging to her slim frame, rolled down to her waist to reveal a grey tank-top. The blood had long since been cleaned from her face, leaving a neatly sutured scar that ran just past her temple and back, cutting a thin slash through her hairline.

When she saw him her eyes lit up and a grin crossed her face.

"Corporal," he said, smirking mischievously. 

"Sergeant," she returned, before reaching out a hand.

Ryke grabbed a nearby stool and dragged it into place beside her, perching on it as he took her hand gently in his. "You look good."

"You saying I didn't before?" A wink. "I feel better."

"You going to be getting out of here soon?"

"I better. Can't do any good shut up in this tent." Ivy shrugged. "I've got another day of 'observation' before I'm allowed back to my unit."

"They're just making sure."

"I'm fine."

"If I told you my Hunter-Killer was fine, would you take my word for it, or would you check for yourself?"

She pulled a sour face. "I suppose. But being cooped up here... I feel like I need to do something, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Ryke nodded sympathetically, at the back of his mind wondering exactly how to broach the subject of his impending march into the unknown. Fortunately, Ivy knew him well enough that she didn't need to wait for him to figure it out.

"So what's with you?" she asked, giving him a light slap on the chest. "You look like you just stole my shiner."

He squirmed awkwardly. "I'm heading out again, soon."

"You've been in and out of the fighting this whole time." Ivy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "It doesn't usually bother you."

"This is a little different."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"You remember back in Brekka, when I went to speak to the Scraegan we captured?"

"Not likely to forget it." Her expression morphed to one of accusation. "But last I checked we didn't have any captives to talk to."

"We don't."

"So you're, what...?"

Ryke managed a rueful smile. "Got to head out there and say hello the old fashioned way."