After listening to the Inquisitor issue his orders, Ben would pay for his drinks, and stand up. Putting his hands in his pockets, he made his way out the door, and started the walk to the gallery. He looked around, reminded in some ways of his home, but otherwise, didn't really ruminate on many things. He scanned around for possible threats, and stopped to buy a pack of lhosticks. 

Errand completed, he started walking again, and removed one stick from the carton, and put it in his mouth. Ben pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit it, drawing in the smoke, and exhaling it through his nostrils. 

When he arrived at the gallery, he took what was left of the thing from his mouth with his left hand and rolled it between his metal fingers until the fire was out, and then flicked the remnants onto the ground.

Ben looked at the Inquisitor. He knew that man was older than him by a few years, but he didn't look it. "[color=aba000]You know, it all burns.[/color]" Ben said, idly. He gestured around him and everything. "[color=aba000]Hive cities. The people who live here think they're a fortress. Untouchable, and some sort of redoubt against anything. But they're just big slaughterhouses.[/color]" 

Ben put his hands in his pockets, and hunched a little as if he was cold. He sniffled before continuing. "[color=aba000]You ever lead one of the big wars?[/color]" he asked. "[color=aba000]I'm guessing no. bit young for it, bit nice.[/color]" Ben said, not really waiting for a reply. "[color=aba000]I know, kindness isn't weakness and all that. I met one who wasn't kind. He was like some animal who had been kicked and was looking for someone to bite.[/color]"

Ben kept going, on some sort of tangent now. "[color=aba000]Back on Armageddon, my platoon leader, some young Lieutenant got himself killed, and I was the highest rank NCO. So they promoted me for a bit and made me lead. And my unit was fighting in a hive city. Don't even remember which one anymore. And it was this fuckin' meatgrinder. They just told us everyday to keep moving forward, and I know what they say about orks. They're stupid, but they're cunning. Traps everywhere, ambushes, enfilade fire. We'd have to dismount for engineers to clear rubble and then they'd shoot us to bits.[/color]" Ben swallowed loudly like he was having trouble with the story. 

"[color=aba000]And one day, they pull my unit from the front. And here I am, dirty, I haven't shaved. Haven't slept more than an hour a day if that, no ammo, hungry. And this private comes up to me and tells me an Inquisitor wants to see me. So I go, right, not like I can say no. And he's thinkin' big war stuff, and asking me these questions that made me want to kill him. How many bodies did I lose, what did I learn, can I learn more with more bodies, how long until we take this street or that block. And all I can think about is how they aren't bodies, or fuckin' meat in a goddamn slaughterhouse. That they're Jan whose intestines I held as she died, or Ken who got cut in half in an ambush.[/color]"

At this point, Ben pulled out another lho-stick, and lit it on fire. "[color=aba000]I dunno what the point is. I dunno. I guess thanks for not being that kind of Inquisitor. At least to our faces.[/color]" Ben said, looking up at Zhevon. Ben sighed loudly and spit. "[color=aba000]Think we're going to see anything down here?[/color]" Ben asked.