Harper's excitement has him bouncing from the walls of the Maru and for once it is not an overreaction or chemical stimulation. The Andromeda Ascendant is within their grasp. This motley crew of oddities are actually attempting the unbelievable and making progress. Tyr could never have imagined this even a few years before, when he had been holed up in a hovel on Deyersbon with the mad little genius currently downing an alcoholic beverage.
Harper frowns as Tyr takes it from him and sets it aside, but doesn't stop chatting animatedly to Beka, Trance and the Magog priest about what they will spend their expected wealth on. Beka speaks of clearing her debts. Independence is a noble goal, similar to Tyr's own though their methods will ultimately differ. The Magog speaks of buying absolution. The purple girl manages to avoid saying anything, as is her usual way. Beka nudges Harper.
“What about you? Tech toys or mudfoot home comforts? Little house for you and Tyr, white picket fence? Dog?”
The boy grins and meets his gaze. “I already have a guard dog. You've met Tyr?” Tyr shoves him slightly. Barely a nudge but it's enough to make the smaller man wobble. “Just kidding, big guy. But I'll probably see what Tyr wants to do. We're compadres, amigos, a dynamic duo.”
Tyr rolls his eyes, though the boy's assumption is not wrong. They have known one another longer than anyone on this craft, fighting for survival together before the Eureka Maru took them on board. They had fought foes external and internal when they had barely known one another. Without ever truly discussing it, they had continued to do so. A bond of sorts had been formed.
“So what are you planning to do with your share of the spoils, Anasazi?”
Captain Beka Valentine leans against the wall with the slight smile that makes it seem as though he is a constant source of amusement to her, though Tyr does not understand the joke himself. He shrugs, aware that the curve of her lips show amusement but her gaze is shrewd as ever. She has not survived so long through naivete.
“I will seek like-minded foes of my enemies and destroy all who have sought to destroy me.”
“Vengeance,” the Magog rasps. “Why would you squander not only your hard-won wealth, but also your time, which will never be returned to you?”
“Hey, nobody's picking at your plans,” Harper says, jumping to Tyr's defence quite unnecessarily. “Tyr's got his scores to settle just like anyone. It's his right to do what he wants with the money.”
The Magog growls a little at Harper's aggression as the boy gets right into its space. Be it a growl of annoyance or one of hunger, it makes Harper flinch back so Tyr moves a hand warningly to his gun, a laser strapped to his thigh. He has many other fine weapons on-board the ship, arsenal enough to battle at least everyone on board if necessary. The Magog knows this. Not only his ability, but his willingness. It shrinks back from Harper, both watching one another warily.
It bolsters Tyr's resolve to see the boy feeling so brave as to approach the creature of his nightmares. It had taken weeks before Harper could be in the same room as the thing.
As they all part ways to man their various stations on the ship, ready for the extraction of the Andromeda from the black hole, Tyr catches Harper's arm.
“There are more valuable things available to us than wealth if we accomplish this.”
Harper's smile is the same wicked promise of freedom that it was years before in the slaver's den.
“ 'If?' Tyr. You wound me. When we accomplish this we'll work out the next steps.”
“You need to start planning ahead. I have said this before.”
“And as I've said before, why do I need to plan anything? That's what I have you for.”
Harper pats him on the chest and bounces off to Engineering to perform his little feats of genius.
Tyr barely even feels like he should be annoyed these days, though he makes sure to present otherwise. Fondness is a weakness.
Honestly it is so damn frustrating that the moment Tyr leaves his side on board the shiny new ship Harper finds himself at the mercy of some ridiculously tall High Guard dude from a fallen civilisation. Like, what are the odds? How often does that sort of thing happen to normal people? Throughout the whole conversation, where the man holds him at the end of some sort of... staff (hello, phallic?) Harper keeps glancing towards the door expecting a big, bad Nietzchean to come roaring in any minute.
He doesn't and Harper has to let down the Captain guy as gently as possible. It can't be easy, waking up three-hundred years into a dystopian future that came about because your guys lost a war.
In fact, the shock seems to send the Captain reeling. When he's paced a few steps away Harper makes his get-away. He's not much of a combat guy, but he has a pretty good turn of speed when necessary. He hurtles down corridors until he finds his grouchy Uber to hide behind, who escorts him back to the rest of the crew so that he can tell them all about the angry man he's just found.
Beka wants to fight the guy for his ship. So does Tyr and so does Gerentex. None of that should be a surprise. Harper is, again, not a combat guy and is so keen on avoiding combat for the foreseeable future, but he meets Tyr's eyes and knows the big guy has no intention of letting this opportunity pass by. And, well, where Tyr goes Harper goes. It's been that way since the escape. It's safe, even when Tyr gets that murdery look in his eyes. Especially when Tyr gets that murdery look in his eyes, since it usually means whoever's overstaying their welcome is about to get impaled on a boneblade.
Gerentex reveals his two surprise guests, a couple of mercenaries to assist with the murdering. Beka is decidedly unimpressed at the uninvited muscle, especially since it means Gerentex could very well be planning to muscle them all out of the deal. Tyr had already checked out the guy's cargo and warned Harper, so it's not so much of a surprise for him. And so what if Gerentex brought dudes? The Maru crew have Tyr, who's worth a dozen of these idiots.
Well. Maybe the crew don't have Tyr as such.
“I can hear your brain whirring,” the Nietzchean says quietly as soon as they're a little away from the others.
“Should get that checked out really,” Harper quips.
“As well as this,” Tyr says, tapping his gun lightly to the irritating rash that is getting worse on Harper's neck. “I dislike how it is spreading. It could be serious.”
“I've had worse rashes, believe me. Right now I'm more concerned about you fighting this random High Guard dude.”
Tyr shrugs, unfazed. “They were well-trained for their time. But I am well-trained for mine. The man should have remained historical. I will put him back where he belongs.”
“And the ship?” Harper whispers.
“There will be a place for you. Whatever I decide to do with our spoils.”
And with that he strides off, hefting a gun the size of Harper's torso over one perfectly muscular shoulder.
It wouldn't be quite fifty-fifty. They would let Beka take valuable things to help settle her debts. Let Trance take whatever trinkets would make her happy. Maybe even let Rev Bem the magog take whatever would fund his charity work. Gerentex and his goons though? As good as dead. Captain Hunt too.
Once they had control of the Andromeda Ascendant nobody would be able to make Harper or Tyr feel fear ever again.