A/N: Ooh, we're nearing the end! Seems like this thing might actually be finished soon! If anyone has any requests for things that need to happen before the end, now would be the time to suggest them and I'll see what I can do. Within reason, people, within reason! Oh, and any wishes for Pitch dying / getting beaten up / having an unfortunate accident whilst playing too close to the airlock will be turned a blind eye to, thank you very much! :-P... so there!

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Chapter Sixteen: Things worth saving

Tyr made his way though the corridors, almost casually shooting down enemies. Rommie had given him Pitch's location, and it was not far to go. As a matter of fact, he was already there. Tyr stepped around the corner, aiming his forcelance at the back of the momentarily unsuspecting man. Pitch was firing off a couple of shots in the direction he was facing and then he spun around and spotted Tyr.

"Hey! Don't be aiming that thing at me, you crazy alien bastard!" he said.

Tyr's trigger finger itched at the mere sound of his voice.

"You have a transmitter for the channeller," Tyr said, "I want it."

"Fuck off! Pitch laughed scornfully.

If Tyr had been certain that he was carrying the device on him, he could have just shot him right then and there and searched his body. But he might have left it somewhere, even hidden it. Tyr did not have the luxury of killing him right now. Even though Pitch was displaying every sign of hostility towards Tyr, he still was not pointing the gun he was carrying at him. Maybe he was arrogant, but at least he was not stupid.

"Where is it?" Tyr asked icily.

"You really think I'd tell you?" Pitch sneered, "What, do you think we wanna stay here forever? I'm going home, and I'm taking Milon with me. You're not gonna stop me."

"You do not seem to be in a position where you have a choice," Tyr said, still aiming his weapon squarely at Pitch's face as he walked up to him.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me? Miles'd kill you for it, trust me. You just try something, and you'll find out soon enough where his loyalties lie. He knows I look out for him."

Tyr just stared at him coldly.

"Are you operating under some delusion that you are protecting him? From what? From me?"

"I know your type. You wanna use him, just like all the rest. You think it'll be easy, you think he's trusting, and maybe he is, but he'll get wide to you sooner or later and then god help you! I know Miles a long time; he's not as soft as he looks. As a matter of fact," Pitch smiled spitefully, "he tried to kill me before. What chance do you think you stand?"

His black eyes were glittering coldly; he really believed what he was saying. But Tyr had had enough of his insane ramblings. He raised his voice:

"I have no time for your childish jealousy! I need the transmitter and you are going to give it to me, one way or another!"

Suddenly, Tyr caught a movement in the corridor behind Pitch. An enemy soldier, and he was pointing his gun straight towards them. The urge to grab Pitch and use him as a human shield was overwhelming. Tyr told himself again that he needed him alive to find the transmitter, but the truth was that he could still hear Milon's voice in his head. 'Don't get him killed.' 'Don't hurt him.' 'Please.' Tyr sighed inwardly and then pushed Pitch out of the way, firing a rapid series of shots into the smoke. A short scream was heard as the enemy was hit. Pitch gave Tyr a suspicious look, like he had just done something very strange. An explosion rocked the ship and then a voice was heard.

"Tyr?"

It was Harper again, over the comlink.

"Yes?"

"Have you got that thing we talked about yet? I hate to stress you out; it's just that the rift seems to be breaking up a bit. I don't think we have much time left.

"What's that?" Pitch asked sharply, "what rift?"

"A portal between the dimensions. The one you were waiting for. The only problem is that it is out there and you are in here. Of course, you could borrow a space suit and take your chances..." Tyr said.

Pitch just stared at him, angrily. Yes, Tyr felt better now.

"Or, you could give me the transmitter and give Harper a chance to do something about the situation."

Pitch seemed to realise at last that he had lost. He was not going to get back home, with or without Milon, unless he cooperated with them. He was still staring at Tyr with his black, angry eyes, but eventually he said:

"So where's Harper?"

"Give me the transmitter."

"Not a hope. I'll come with you and see what he has to say."

Tyr was not in the mood for negotiating, especially not with Pitch, but Harper must have been listening over the link still, because he shouted:

"Yeah, whatever, just get here! We don't have all day!"

"Follow me."

Tyr started heading back to the machine shop but he had not taken more than five steps when another energy beam shot out of the smoke. Then another one, from the opposite direction. All of a sudden they were caught in crossfire. The Vertexans must somehow be able to listen in on their communications. That would explain how they always seemed to know where they were going.

Tyr returned fire best he could, but they were too many of them, and the smoke was too thick to see. When the coast seemed clear, Tyr made a dash for the next room. Too late did he realise that he had missed one of the shooters. There was a noise from the adjoining corridor he had just passed. Tyr spun around, only to see the attacker get hit by an energy beam from Pitch's gun, right in the chest. Tyr stared at Pitch, who looked back at him, now with a slightly amused look in his eyes.

"What? You think just 'cause I hate you means I don't have your back?"

Tyr just stared at him. Then another explosion, the biggest so far, rocked the ship and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Pitch's gun was thrown out of his hand and as the ship tilted, it slid away across the floor, down one of the access hatches. They scrambled to their feet, but before he had time to collect himself, another shot came out of nowhere, hitting Tyr right in the stomach. He fell for the second time, firing his forcelance as he did. The attacker was hit. The gunfire ceased. Everything went quiet, except for the occasional sparks from the torn up electrical cables. Tyr felt the pain flaring up as his body started to realise what had happened. He pressed his hands to his stomach and felt the warm, sticky wet feeling of way too much blood leaving his body. He opened his mouth to call out to someone over the comlink, but realised that it would only betray his location to the enemies. Pitch just stood there, looking down on him calmly.

"Go to the machine shop," Tyr whispered hoarsely.

It might not be of any use, but Tyr could not think of anything else to say. Pitch nodded shortly and then stooped to pick up Tyr's fallen forcelance. Tyr grabbed his wrist and hissed:

"That's electrically protected. Touch it and you'll get fried!"

"I need a weapon. I'll never make it there unarmed."

"Well, where did you get the other one?"

"Beka gave it to me. You can't use the enemies' guns either, they have some kind of personal lock on them."
Damn it. Tyr could feel his life draining from him, bit by bit onto the floor. Pitch crouched down at his side, looking into his eyes.

"Listen to me. You're bleeding an awful lot. You need medical attention. You can't use your radio, 'cause they're listening, aren't they? So, it seems like your only hope right now is me. When I get to the machine shop, I'll send someone to get you. But to get there, I need a weapon. You'll protect yourself better by giving it to me than keeping it to yourself."

It was true, what he said, Tyr knew it. He could feel any doubts he should have had stilled by Pitch's words. He knew he shouldn't trust him, but right now, he did. He picked up his forcelance, making the necessary adjustments, and handed it over.

"Good man," Pitch said, gave him the thinnest of smiles and disappeared into the smoke.

Tyr lay there on the ground wondering what the hell he had just done. Surrendering the only weapon he had left to somebody he did not trust a bit more than the Vertexans themselves. Well, that was what he had done, and now it looked like it was going to cost him his life. He remembered what Milon had told him about Pitch's ability to 'charm' people. Persuade them; trick them into trusting him. Obviously that must have been what happened. Tyr had not even felt anything, he had just been so sure that he was making the right decision.

He had no idea how long he lay there. He could hear some gunfire in the distance and he could smell the overpowering, metallic scent of his own blood, but that was about it. There seemed to be some kind of black spots in his vision, he could not see properly. He felt tired but knew that if he succumbed to sleep he would not wake up again. But what was he waiting for? Pitch was obviously not going to send any help. He wanted Tyr dead, for reasons of his own; this must be the answer to his prayers.

Then, suddenly, he heard a gun being fired again, much closer this time. The sound of running footsteps. This was it, the end. They were heading his way, and he was completely defenceless. What a stupid, dishonourable death it was going to be. A figure appeared in the corridor, moving towards him. One thing was for sure, Tyr was not going to beg or try to crawl away. If he was going out like this, he refused to look pathetic doing it. Instead he closed his eyes. If he was really lucky, maybe they would think he was just another dead body.

The running footsteps came to a halt just beside his body. Whoever it was, they were crouching down, examining him. Well, the dead body trick was not going to work then. But the other man was very close to him now; maybe he could grab the gun off him and shoot him? Tyr was just about to take his last chance when he heard a familiar voice:

"Tyr... you alive?"

It was Milon. Tyr opened his eyes and saw the boy looking down at him with a worried look on his face.

"Yes."

Milon nodded and put his hands over Tyr's wound. This time Tyr did not even think of trying to stop him. The buzzing, numbing warmth swept through his body. With the pain gone, Tyr could almost feel the tissue knotting, healing up inside him. It tickled, twitched and burned a little, but in a nice way. There was no way his nanobots could have done this kind of repair this fast. Tyr closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them again he could see drops of perspiration on Milon's face. This was clearly taking a lot out of him, but when he took his hands off Tyr, the wound in his stomach had healed. Tyr stood up, still a little dizzy from the bloodloss, but that would soon pass. Milon got up too, staggering, and Tyr took a gentle hold of his shoulder to steady him.

"You saved my life," he said quietly.

"Well, Pitch told me where you were. Maybe it was a good thing you didn't kill him now, eh?"

He gave Tyr a pale smile.

"Yes. How are things coming along in the machine shop?"

"Alright, I think. I don't understand half of what he's saying, but he seems to know what he's talking about," Milon said, "Actually, we'd better get back there."

They returned to a mess of machinery and cables. Harper was working like a man possessed, putting together some kind of big device, connected to the computer. Pitch was standing by the door, watching him, but when Tyr and Milon entered the room he turned to them:

"Good job, Miles. He looks brand new."

Pitch gave him a smile, but there seemed to be something sad in it. Milon smiled wearily and then Pitch pressed the button on the forcelance to turn off the protection and tossed it to Tyr.

"That's yours, innit?"

Tyr caught it, a little surprised. He had half expected having to take it back by force. Well, seemed like this truce between them might actually stand a chance.

"Milon, come here a sec," Harper said, picking up a small rodshaped object from the workbench, "Let me have a look at your bio port. Have to see if I need to make an adapter for you. What fits me might not fit you."

"You're gonna jack me in?"

Milon sounded nervous. Almost worried. Harper gave him a quick look and then said:

"Yeah. I have to."

Milon looked at Pitch and then he walked over to Harper and hesitantly allowed him to carefully push the jack into the back of his neck.

"Hah! Like a glove! That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No it's fine..."

But he sounded a little unsure. Then Dylan's voice came over the speakers:

"We have eliminated the intruders. It should be safe to use the comms again. The rift outside is starting to collapse though, and the Vertex has stopped firing, which can only mean that they are preparing to go through. Whatever it is you have planned, Harper, now would be the time."

"Almost done, boss."

Harper picked up the small box that was the transmitter Pitch must have handed over. He connected it to the computer and started pressing buttons. Tyr just watched as a number sequence started to come up on the screen.

"I'm getting it! I'm getting it! This is gonna work! Don't say I'm not the greatest!"

Harper was almost jumping up and down with excitement. And Tyr supposed it might be warranted, it was not every day he got to figure out the basics of interdimensional travel from scratch. Harper really was in his element here.

"Yes! That's the code! This is it!"

He quickly keyed in the numbers into a keypad attached to the new machine.

"I've already tuned up the external transmitters and Rommie's taking care of the power buffers. Hey presto, home made channeller a la Harper! Now all we need is enough juice, and of the right type, to run this thing. That's where Milon comes in."

Tyr frowned. Looked at Milon who was standing there with the cord coming out of his head, already looking pale and tired. Was Harper expecting him to power the machine? Did he not know what had happened in the corridor, only a few minutes ago?

"The Vertex is starting to move towards the fissure," Dylan said over the link.

Rommie's hologram flickered on next to Milon.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Milon nodded, eyes closed.

This was not good. Tyr might not know the specifics of this new machine, but if it was supposed to alter the nature of a cosmic event such as an opening between dimensions, he guessed that it would take an enormous amount of energy to accomplish the task. Obviously, Harper was working under the assumption that Milon was still fully... charged, or whatever. But Tyr had seen first hand how drained he had been after the Vertexans had tried something similar back on Earth. And just now... For some strange reason Tyr could feel his stomach contract, and it had nothing to do with his earlier injury.

"Milon, are you sure you will be strong enough?" he asked quietly.

Milon opened his green eyes and looked at him. Tyr could see fear. Well masked, but not well enough to hide it from him.

"I'll have to, won't I?"

Tyr turned to look at Pitch. Surely, he must know what had happened? What might happen? Pitch met his eyes for a split second and then looked down. Oh yes, he knew. The anger flared up inside Tyr again. Before he had time to think it over, he had walked over to Pitch and grabbed a hold of his neck.

"You know this will not work! He is not strong enough! It will kill him!"

Pitch, strangely enough, did not struggle to free himself, but simply looked at Tyr.

"Well, try telling that to Miles. Don't you see what's on stake here? If he doesn't do it, the Vertex will destroy our home! Beka told me all about their plans. We'll never be able to go back. Our friends will die, everyone will die. He was always going to save the world, you know. Only difference is, he chose to save you first."

Tyr let him go and stepped back. He was right. Milon had put his whole world at risk to heal Tyr. Why? Tyr knotted his fists, feeling helplessly angry and hating it.

"If we're gonna do this, it has to be now..." Harper said, tentatively.

"Yeah, we're doing it."

Milon closed his eyes again and grabbed a hold of the two conducting metal bars of the machine. He started glowing, and the light travelled down the length of the bars, making the needle in the window display quiver and rise to 0.1.

"We really should wear glasses..." Harper said absentmindedly as he stared at the glowing figure and rooted around behind him on the desk before tossing Tyr and Pitch a pair of dark goggles each.

Tyr put them on, but he really felt like telling Milon to stop. The light was growing stronger and stronger, past the point where it would have dazzled the naked eye, past the point where it would have blinded them. The needle was rising, rising in the little window. The machine was buzzing with power, and the numbers on the display underneath the one holding the co-ordinates Harper had set, were changing.

"It's working! Oh my god, it's actually working!" Harper breathed.

And it might be working, but was it fast enough, and at what cost? Milon's face was already a mask of pain, eyes and teeth clenched together, sweat dripping from his forehead and he was holding on so tight to the bars that Tyr could see every muscle in his arms. And still the light was getting brighter. "Not far to go now!" Harper called over the loud buzz of the machine.

"The Vertex has almost reached the fissure," Dylan said over the link.

Tyr felt like roaring at him to shut up.

Pitch had turned his face away, staring blankly at a point where the floor met the wall. Tyr looked back at Milon. The light was hurting his eyes now, even through the dark, protective glass of the goggles, but he could still make out Milon's face underneath the shine. Blood was running from his nose, over his lips, dripping slowly to the floor.

"Nearly there!" Harper shouted, "another few seconds!"

"The Vertex is entering the rift," Dylan said.

"It's almost done! Another two seconds!" Harper called.

Then Tyr could hear another sound over the humming of the machine. Milon was moaning in pain, a moan that was rapidly turning into a scream.

"The Vertex is..."

"Now!" Harper shouted.

The needle was in the red. The numbers were matching. A massive beam of energy was released from the machine, leaving the Andromeda, shooting straight into the fissure. They could see it all on the screen as Rommie's external sensors relayed the information in picture form. The last of the Vertex disappeared through the rift, which collapsed almost before they were through. The light disappeared. The machine fell silent. Milon did not. With a heartbreaking cry he fell to the floor, nose bleeding, hands scorched black where he had been holding the electrified rail. Only now, Harper seemed to be aware of how much energy he had actually generated.

"Oh my god... oh look at these readings... I've never seen... Milon, are you alright?"

Tyr could not control himself any longer. He knew that Harper was not being insensitive, just overwhelmed by the science of it all, but still. He walked up to the machine, pushed Harper out of the way so hard that he was thrown across the room, and knelt down beside Milon. He put his hand on Milon's neck to remove the cable from his head and got a small, electric shock as he touched him. Gently, he pulled the jack from his bio port, seeing black burn marks on the skin.

"Trance," Harper called over the com link, "we need you down here."

Tyr turned Milon over on his back. He was unconscious, but breathing. Suddenly Pitch was at his side.

"Fucking hell Miles, you never quit, do you..." he mumbled, kneeling beside Tyr, "here, let me take him."

Tyr hesitated. He was still angry. Their eyes met again. Tyr could see the same feelings in Pitch's eyes. Anger. But not at Tyr, for a change; at himself. Just like Tyr. Maybe they were not so different after all, even though he hated to admit it. Reluctantly, Tyr stood up and let Pitch lift Milon's body off the ground.

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