Haldor grimaced as he flexed experimentally his sprained, chafed wrist. The support bandage sat snugly, a little tight but not uncomfortably so. The MC looked at it closely and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Do not bend it very much for two or three days, so that it stops hurting. And you must keep the scratches clean. Disinfect them tomorrow, or you can go to the ward and ask them to do it."

"Will do," Hal said. "Thanks, mate."

He pulled his discarded jacket on and made a face at the way it immediately stuck to his back, as if glued. He shivered a little. While the overseer had taken care of his slight injury, he'd had time enough to cool down and now the sweaty shirt felt downright uncomfortable. Well, the next thing on his to-do list now was a hot shower to pamper his strained muscles, and then, perhaps, he'd go to the canteen? Or, even better, maybe he could try to coax a shot or two of whisky from Corinn and Vanya? In any case, now that he was too tired to distract himself with exercise, he could use some company. Any company where he could at least try and not to think about –

"Oh, sorry."

That voice wasn't heard very often, but still Haldor recognized it well enough to bristle immediately. He turned reluctantly to look towards the door and promptly stopped to gape. Sure it was the girly-boy himself, but looking unlike Hal had ever seen him before. Lancer never seemed to fancy very elaborate clothes, which had to be considered a point in his favor, but his current outfit set a new record in austerity. A matte-black bodysuit covered him from neck downwards, fitting him like a tight glove, and his hair was pulled back into an equally tight ponytail. A holster holding a respectably-sized gun had been strapped to his narrow hips.

His hands looked extremely small and fragile next to all the stern blackness, and when he took a couple of steps towards the control computer, Hal realized why he hadn't heard Lancer come in. The black shoes, sneakers, whatever, didn't make a sound on the floor. Ha wasn't sure whether it was more because of their sole material or the gliding step of the young man. Probably both.

"Will you be going to the course now, Lancer?" The MC had also turned his attention to the silver-blond who studied the monitor for a moment and then nodded.

"Yes. Please retrieve my usual settings, Peter, and up them all a notch."

The voice was soft and low as always, then Lancer turned with a nod to the MC and disappeared through the door. Hal lingered nearby to spy – heck, he had all right to be curious about what exactly the pretty boy was going to do – and when the parameters flashed on the screen he was instantly rooted on the spot. Did the guy actually think he'd get even halfway through?

"All ready, Peter?"

"Yes, Lancer. You are clear to begin."

The screen flickered, and then pale numbers began to run in one corner. Lancer had entered the course.

A few hundred meters away, Corinn stopped in the middle of the deserted yard with a huff. "Where the hell can he be lurking? Haven't we looked everywhere yet?"

"At least we've checked the canteen three times in an hour," Vanya sighed. "And since he's eating so little nowadays, there's no use doing it again... Hey, Greg! You seen Lancer around?"

"He was heading towards the challenge course," Greg hollered back. "Wasn't that long ago, most likely he's there now. Have the two of you seen Hal? We thought of sitting down with him, me and Kyo, and trying to get him cheered up a bit!"

"Sorry, the last we've seen him was more than an hour ago," Vanya replied. "He was his usual grumpy self, said that he wanted to work it out... on the... bloody fucking hell!"

Greg stared for a moment after the two men who'd suddenly sprinted into a brisk trot and were headed directly towards the long, low-slung building that housed the dreaded indoor training course of the Base. Then he shook his head and continued towards the warmly inviting glow of the canteen.

"I sure hope Hal had left... before Lancer... got there!" Vanya panted, catching up with his partner who'd got a head start. "He's been like a wounded bear these past few weeks."

"Don't you think we're being over-protective?" Corinn puffed. Vanya shook his head.

"Neither of those two is at their most lovable at the moment, and I don't like the idea of my friends fighting anyway."

He screeched to a halt just outside the door and they managed to squeeze in side by side, shoulders nearly making dents to the doorframes, without looking like they were actually barging in.

"Hi, Hal!" Corinn said brightly.

"Hi."

Haldor didn't as much as turn his head, his entire attention was riveted to the screen and the shape that could barely be seen moving in it. Broad shoulders were hunched inside the jacket and he'd wrapped arms around himself as he stood there, back to the door, the very picture of concentration. Intrigued, Corinn and Vanya stepped closer sharing a curious glance.

"What's that?" Corinn asked, squinting in an effort to make at least something out of the image.

"Lancer's on the course," Hal mumbled absently. "Making good progress, too... oh fuck!"

White shafts of light flashed suddenly on the screen and all three spectators cringed at the sharp rattling sound. The picture fell silent and still, only the tiniest movement could be seen in one corner. Then a shot, a second and third in rapid succession, and answering fire from the opposite side. Haldor was holding his breath, lips moving, and started when another series was fired, this time from a different spot. Again the unseen opponent reacted, but not nearly with the same intensity. After some agonizing seconds a black shape crept cautiously forward and they briefly caught sight of something silvery before it vanished again in the shadows. The screen read 'Ambush 1 cleared' and Hal let out a long breath.

"Ambush one? Are there going to be more?" he rasped.

"With those parameters, anything from one upwards," Vanya said nodding towards the settings displayed in one corner. "Damn, he's sure picked a hard one..."

"A bit too hard, in his current condition," Corinn said and his jaw tightened. "He'd have trouble clearing that course even when properly rested and fed. He's sure to hurt himself."

"He'll never forgive us if we interrupt him," Vanya pointed out. "Let's just watch for now."

"But he might hurt himself badly!" Corinn argued. "Surely he doesn't want to get himself killed?"

"Who's overreacting now?" Vanya said. "The supervisor won't let things get that far. We'll wait here."

They stood side by side in front of the screen, nobody saying a word, while Lancer proceeded along the course. He used his slim body to its advantage, mostly clearing physical obstacles by wiggling through passages that bigger men could only dream of clearing, and handled his gun with scary efficiency when the automated course decided to ambush him again. Hal was cursing profusely under his breath when shots illuminated the bleak corridor, and for a moment they could clearly see the outline of Lancer, crouching behind something that looked like boxes, the barrel of the gun raised in front of his face. He lowered himself on his belly and wormed forward, then dashed across a narrow open space and dove again into safety, seconds before firing towards the source of the shots with murderous accuracy.

"That kid is incredible," Hal said with quiet awe. "Simply incredible. Where the hell has he learned to shoot like that?"

"On the shooting range back in Mount Robillard," Corinn smiled. "The rule was that nobody went out of the base without a gun, and without knowing how to use it. We wanted to take him along, so he learned to shoot. Then he realized he was actually good at it, and... well, you know, that usually helps in getting even better."

Vanya nodded. "Then he trained with Glynn, a guy from the Robillard base, before we invaded this place, and he's just not wanted to let his skills wither ever since."

"Invaded – this place?" Hal turned to stare at Vanya. "Do you mean he was involved?"

"He was one of the four people who entered the base after I blew up part of the wall," Vanya said matter-of-factly. "He was teamed up with Orwel, and Orwel himself has said more than once that he can't even count how many times Lancer saved his life during those hours. Got wounded, too."

"He took a while to get over it all," Corinn said and shifted a bit guiltily. "I'm ashamed to say I wasn't of much help back then... you see, Vanya was badly injured as well. But after that I swore that I'm never going to let him down any more whenever he needs a friend."

"Ouch!" Vanya yelped when the black shadow that was Lancer emerged over a wall and yet another volley of shots greeted him on the other side, so that he was forced to drop himself abruptly to the ground. "That had to hurt!"

"But he's going on," Hal observed incredulously. "Some tough cookie..."

The end of the course was approaching and they could see that Lancer was struggling, most probably running on pure adrenaline now that he'd most likely used up all his energy reserves. Vanya swore quietly when they saw the next obstacle: climbing up a rope. Even at the best of times it was something Lancer hated, and now he simply stopped in midair while hoisting himself up.

All three men hissed when his grip faltered and he began to slip inexorably down, then roared their encouragement to the screen, not caring that no sound was carried through the walls to the course, when he scraped up enough strength to reach the top and pull himself on the ledge. A few meters more, then the screen flashed and the time stopped running. He'd reached the exit.

"Let's go."

Corinn shouldered the door open and they all dashed to the other side. Lancer was slumped on his knees on the floor, head hanging so that the tresses that had escaped from his ponytail hung limp around his face. The gun was still clasped in his hand, readied for a last-second ambush just before the exit, shaking wildly. Vanya knelt beside him and gently extracted the gun, then grimaced and took his wrist turning the hand around.

"You've hurt your hands, babe," he said quietly. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard."

Lancer didn't answer, still panting desperately for breath. Peter, the MC in charge, entered the small room with a first-aid kit in hand and pushed determinedly closer.

"Your hands are bleeding, Lancer," he said. "Are you hurt otherwise?"

"Just bruises," Lancer said breathlessly. "I'll manage."

"Show me," Peter ordered, heeding no objections, and began to expertly clean the wounds. Lancer screwed his eyes closed and bit his lip as disinfectant seeped into his scraped palms. He was trembling.

Hal watched silently as Peter carefully bandaged Lancer's narrow hands. When they'd been taken care of to the clone's satisfaction, the blond tried to climb on his feet and was about to collapse again, but Corinn had been expecting something like that and swiftly swung an arm around his waist.

"Now, Lancer, you come with me," he said with determination. "I'll make sure you won't do any more crazy things tonight."

"Thanks," Lancer managed reluctantly. Vanya shook his head as the incongruous twosome limped slowly away, then looked at Haldor who was still staring after them with a totally stunned expression.

"How about we go to have a beer?" he suggested. "Corinn's going to take a while."

"I still can't believe it," Hal mumbled. "His time was brilliant, as far as I can tell, especially with all those attacks. Shoots like the devil himself."

"He misses Scott like crazy," Vanya sighed. "And even though we all know it already that he's a tough guy who'll survive this, the problem is that he's trying a little too hard to prove it to himself."

"I know the feeling," Hal grunted. "Wanting to do something that's sure to take your mind away from the problem..."

Vanya glanced at him quickly but kept his mouth shut. Hal had been resolutely silent these past few weeks, and all cautious efforts to coax him into telling what was eating him fell on deaf ears. Vanya decided not to press the matter, no matter how much he wanted to help. Hal knew he had friends to talk to, and if he opted not to speak about it, that was his choice. It definitely had something to do with the redheaded girlfriend, for he hadn't wanted to go to Trelissac ever since that one fateful visit from which he'd returned a day early. Probably she counted as ex-girlfriend now... such a pity, as well as it had seemed to be going.

Vanya shook the thought away and looked appraisingly at the man. Hadn't Hal been working out on the course already earlier? No wonder then that the man looked harried.

"I bet you want to shower now," he suggested. "You look a bit chilled. But after that, won't you join me and the guys in the canteen?"

Hal agreed without much grumbling, and half an hour later he appeared again, dark hair still damp, next to the table that Vanya, Greg and Kyo had manned. Vanya pointed towards the fourth glass of beer that was sitting forlornly on the table in front of an empty chair.

"Here you go, man, we got you one as well!"

Hal sat down and pulled the chair closer, greedily grabbing the glass.

"Thanks," he sighed after swallowing nearly half of it at one go. "I needed this... Corinn's still not here?"

"Taking his time to tuck the baby in bed," Kyo grinned. "Vanya's told us about it. Geez, that guy really likes self-torture!"

Hal nodded thoughtfully.

"It was incredible," he grunted. "Sure he was in big trouble towards the end, but he'd cleared the first half so quick that his time still was damn good. I'm impressed."

"I've watched him there a couple of times," Greg said. "It's funny, he's such a mild guy normally but when he goes there, his eyes take this weird glint."

"I know the feeling," Vanya said. "When you enter the course, your brain just shuts out everything else. Even though you basically know it's not for real, it gets real when you're there. Besides, even though those shots don't cause serious damage, they still hurt enough to piss you off and want to give them back what they deserve!"

"Yeah, you just forget about everything else except getting through it," Haldor agreed. "It's a total brainwash."

"We ought to try it sometimes, what?" Kyo nudged Greg with an elbow. "Just for the experience?"

"We're just transport guys," Greg said dubiously. "I bet I'm not fit enough for anything there."

"You never know before you try," Vanya chuckled. "And it might give you ideas about training... Ah, Gorgeous, there you are! Mission accomplished?"

"Showered, fed, asleep." Corinn shoved his partner to the side enough to claim a seat on the curving sofa. "Damn that insomnia of his! He doesn't sleep enough, doesn't feel like eating, gets even more tired and feels even less like eating, keeps waking up and doesn't fall asleep again... and what does he do? Overdoes the challenge course until his legs won't carry him any more! I honestly had to go with him to the bathroom while he showered, so that I'd be there in case he passes out!"

"Poor chap," Greg sighed. "Of course I miss Nameeka, but at least I know she's not involved in actual fighting. I'm such a worrywart, I bet I couldn't take it if she was."

Kyo patted him on the shoulder. "True word, pal, that you definitely are. Good thing it was an M-clone and not an SC that caught your wandering eye."

"Well, I'm really not into little girls!" Greg huffed. "And most of the SCs are nothing more than kids, Sabina's one of the few that qualify as women!"

"Just joking, man!" Kyo grinned. "Hmmm... something just caught my wandering eye..."

He nodded towards the serving area, and all five men turned to look. Orwel and Juri were picking up things from the racks, arguing good-humoredly with four smaller figures trailing after them. Everybody smiled and even the corner of Hal's mouth drew up a little, although he soon turned away again.

"Aww, aren't they sweet?" Corinn said. "I swear they've been totally inseparable these couple of weeks. "

"Who exactly are you talking about?" Greg raised an eyebrow. "Juri has at least been to town with other kids so he hasn't been totally glued to Orwel, but I don't think I've seen Mick without Scharm, or the other way round, ever since that visit!"

"That's true," Kyo nodded after thinking about it for a while. "They've really made friends."

"Looks like the clone training project is making progress, then!" Vanya said brightly, noticing how Haldor was beginning to fidget with his glass. "And have you noticed that nowadays it's possible to see individual young TCs around, too?"

Greg and Corinn nodded, but before they had time to say anything Hal's comm alerted. His eyebrows drew together and he punched the little thing silent without even looking at it, mouth pressing into a hard line. The others shared an alarmed glance and Kyo, ever quick to react to changes in mood, once again demonstrated his spectacular ability to smoothly change the topic in a blink. But no matter how hard they tried, their success in brightening up the dark man remained modest. For the rest of the evening Hal was mostly silent and grumpy, and after they'd finished off their second round of beers, he announced that he was going to call it a day. The others wished him good night, then looked desperately at each other.

"Got to be the redhead," Kyo snarled. "I really wish we could do something. I'm willing to bet anything that she was trying to call him! What the hell's going on?"

"We just have to wait," Vanya said. "And no, I will not try to coax him into talking, so don't even mention it. I value my handsome face too much, thank you."

Greg harrumphed and emptied his glass. "Well, I might follow his example and crawl between the sheets. The mood's spoiled anyway."

"Am I being deserted here?" Kyo moaned as Corinn and Vanya nodded and made to stand up. "All right, spoilsports, good night to you too... I'll go looking for better company!"

They exited from the canteen and Greg turned to the right waving a hand. "See you tomorrow, guys! Don't walk into walls!"

"Hey, we're not yet old enough to have deteriorated night vision!" Corinn shot back. "Though I'll gladly admit that this is easily my least favorite time of the day."

"He's right, though," Vanya commented. "It's so damn murky that even complete darkness is better... by the way, do you think we ought to go and take a look at Lancer?"

"No, let him be," Corinn sighed. "He was so exhausted that I hope he'll sleep for a good few hours now. Besides, I told him to call us if he wakes up in the middle of the night, and he promised to do exactly that."

"Okay." Vanya yawned. "Shit, tomorrow's going to be mostly twilight... which means I won't wake up properly the whole day."

"You'd better!" Corinn shook his head. "Do you mean you still haven't got used to it? That it might be dark during the day? And you've even lived on Ashanti!"

"Hey, that's totally different," Vanya argued. "We were underground there, so it was easy not to give a damn about what it looked like on the surface! Here I can see the sky, and if my brain sometimes tells me that it's dark and therefore night, what can I do about it?"

"Get to sleep right now," Corinn commanded, "and wake up in the morning! There isn't anything more to it than that, moron!"

"Gorgeous, I so like it when you get forceful!" Vanya laughed and dashed into the bathroom, just in time to avoid the boot-like projectile that hit the door behind him.

Forceful or not, a few hours later both men were soundly asleep, bodies comfortably curled together, when their sleep was interrupted by the least wanted sound either of them could imagine. It took a couple of seconds before it penetrated enough to wake them up, but as soon as they got their eyes open, neither wasted any time in grabbing the first piece of clothing they could find and jumping into them. After all, they'd been routinely drilled to react in precisely this way to that particular sound.

It was the sound of an all-base red alert signal.