Chapter Thirteen: And we're back!

Waiting. Tyr hated waiting. Sure, sometimes it was necessary, but so frustrating. If there had only been somebody to shoot, some tactical planning. Something other than sitting here, in a stranger's room waiting.

Pitch had been gone for about fifteen minutes. Beka and Harper were just sitting there, looking saddened but patient. How could they take this so well? If things didn't change Tyr was going to have to kill somebody soon. Pitch, being his favourite choice by far.

Maybe they could bring Milon back to the Andromeda and cure him! Harper had said it, looking at Tyr with that naive, optimistical grin. Like he thought Tyr was going to come over all smiling and amazed at the idea. 'Oh, yes, that never occurred to me at all Harper. I do not know what I would do without you, you wonderful genius!' Stupid boy. Of course Tyr had thought about the option. There was a good chance that Milon would refuse. It would be just the annoying, frustrating thing that boy would do. And then Tyr would no longer be able to hide his anger. Getting into an argument with Milon right now would be no good. And as much as Tyr would like to think that was because they needed his help, he knew it was really because he could not bear to cause the boy any more grief this close to his death.

Suddenly, Tyr was walking across the room, towards the kitchen. Enough was enough. He could wait no longer. Time to get what had to be done done. He strode through the small kitchen and opened the door into the other flat without even considering knocking. He wished that the sight of an argument would meet him. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Milon was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Pitch was sitting beside him with his hand on Milon's shoulder, talking to him quietly. Obviously they had resolved their differences. Pitch turned around and stared at Tyr as he more or less burst through the door.

"What the fuck! Can you not wait for ten minutes!" he snapped.

"No. I need to speak to Milon now. Alone."

He did not even know why he said that, but out it came before his brain had time to think it over. Pitch just gave him a look of loathing and turned his head away. Tyr wanted to go over there and strangle him, but as he opened his mouth to say something about the urgency of getting the mission done, Harper's words seemed to replace the ones he had intended to say:

"You should come back to the Andromeda with us. Trance might be able to cure you. I am certain our medical knowledge is far superior to that of this world..."

Milon looked up at him. He even stood up and walked over to him.

"Tyr... I'm not so sure about that..."

Just as he had expected. Tyr's voice was a little too loud and too upset when he said:

"Well what do you have to lose?"

"I don't have anything to lose... but if Trance can't help, she won't take that too well..."

"She will just have to live with that!" Tyr snapped.

Milon gave him a pale smile.

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"Well, it was Harper's idea. I am just telling you about your options."

His voice was back under control now, calm and uncaring. Just the way he liked it. Milon turned to Pitch and looked at him in silence.

"If you wanna go, go. If you think it'll help..."
He sounded tired and sad. Tyr could not care less how he felt.

"I suppose it'd be stupid not to give it a shot. You never know..." Milon said.

"Good, then that is decided. Now we must get access to those machines as soon as possible."

At last. Something to do. Some actual mission work. Tyr felt immeasurably better. He put his hand protectively on Milon's shoulder and steered him towards the door, completely ignoring Pitch's poison looks. Milon just let him, not even looking back. Could it actually be that he was starting to realise who his friends were and... Tyr bit off the thought. This must be some kind of lingering effect of that drug Milon had slipped into his drink. Tyr Anazasi was certainly not the kind of man to get involved in some kind of adolescent, playground-type war about friendships! In fact, he did not keep friends. Just allies and enemies. And not many allies either.

There was a guard outside the door to the room where the channellers were kept. Well, that was only to be expected. Tyr was pulling his gun and was just about to step around the corner when Milon grabbed his arm.

"Don't! I know that guy, you can't just kill him!"

"Do you know him well enough for him to let us through?"

Milon looked down and shook his head.

Suddenly Pitch was walking by them, down the corridor. Tyr could see the guard straighten up and look nervous. Obviously he knew why Pitch was there. Tyr saw them talking to eachother for a few seconds, and then Pitch punched the guy in the face, knocking him out with one blow. The rest of them walked quickly down the corridor and through the door, which opened as the unconscious guard's passcard was swiped through.

Harper ran over to the nearest machine, almost like he was going to hug it.

"Okay, loading last known co-ordinates of the Andromeda... searching for nearest linear co-ordinates... oh yeah, there she is!"

The machine started buzzing with power and a star of crossing lightbeams formed in the middle of the room.

"This is it! Now's the time, let's get going people!"

Harper jumped into the portal, not even hesitating. He was sure of what he was doing. Suddenly there was a sharp bang coming from the door to the room. Tyr spun around and saw three guards bursting into the room.

"Oh crap..."

Pitch had been standing to one side, Tyr was not sure if it was because he had no intention of coming along, or if he just wanted to see if the others made it through safely before he took the risk. As the guards raised their guns, he had no option but to dive through the newly opened rift in the dimension wall. Beka followed and a gun was fired.

"Tyr, get down..."

Tyr felt himself being pushed, stumbling into the glowing pentagram. The air was already thickening; Tyr was lying in a corridor on board the Andromeda. He was home, but before he could even get up off the floor, Tyr was suddenly weighed down as Milon fell through the portal onto him. He was bleeding.

A third shot was fired, but the portal was already closing. The ceiling in the corridor was visible once again, and the last traces of lightbeams were rapidly fading. Tyr rolled Milon's body onto the floor and sat up. The boy was conscious, but clearly injured. By the bullet that would have hit Tyr if Milon had not pushed him out of the way. This was all he needed.

"Milon? Are you hit?"

Pitch kneeled by his side, looking worried.

"Yeah... well, it might just be for the best, eh?"

Milon's voice sounded weak and tired.

"How is it?"

Harper had already contacted Trance, and there was nothing else Tyr could do but watch as Pitch pressed his hands against Milon's wound to try and stop the bloodflow.

"How is it better?" Pitch said again.

"Well, y'know... it's a lot quicker... and although it hurts like hell right now... it's nothing compared to what the Trial would do..."

Milon tried to smile at them through the pain, but he was having troubles. Tyr knew that he was right about what he said, but somehow he could not suppress the feeling of desperation that was creeping up on him.

"No Miles, you have to hang on. We'll get you all fixed up... just hang on..."

Running footsteps approached, and then Trance was there and pushed them out of the way.

"We have to get him to medical..."

Tyr nodded and tried to lift Milon off the ground, but Pitch gave him a hard shove, which sent him toppling over.

"You stay away from him! He'd be alright if he hadn't been saving your sorry arse!"

Tyr growled at him, but made no attempt at stopping him from lifting Milon off the ground. It was true. If he had only managed to teach Milon the importance of survival, he would not have been hit. And he would not have protected Tyr. So did that mean that he had done the right thing? Tyr got up and walked away. Where Milon was concerned, it seemed like Tyr was always bound to lose something in one way or another.