Shieldbrothers: The Bonding

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 7322
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter 2: A Surprise for Tyr

"Boss, Hey Boss! we've got something we really need to tell you about..." Harper's voice trails off as his gaze meets Tyr's quizzical amber stare. His gaze slides quickly away to the Captain. "Oh, hey, Tyr. We came across..."

Tyr narrows his eyes thoughtfully as he studies the human. The blond spikes bristle in all directions as if Harper has been running his hands through it and tugging on it. How many times has he seen his shieldbrother do that when agitated. And certainly Harper is exhibiting several signs of stress. He can hear the excited thump of Harper's heart and -- the human's personal scent is laced with nervousness mingled with -- is that anger? Tyr breathes in, savoring his shieldbrother's unique scent. Anger, yes. But why? What's wrong?

"Tyr? Hey." Trance's gaze also skates awkwardly around him and back to Dylan. Her eyes seem wider and darker than usual.

Tyr frowns. Something has happened, but what? What have these two gotten into now? Trance must have dragged his shieldbrother into some mischief. Just like the purple creature. She is always into something that she should not be. "What is the matter with you two?"

"Well, ya see, big guy, we found something, or rather someones, on the planet that we..." Harper darts an uneasy glance over his shoulder at the Maru. He falls silent as colonists began walking through the Maru's hatch.

"We thought you'd like to know about before it's unwrapped." Trance finishes in a rush as she too throws a wide-eyed look back at the Maru. Her tail curls and uncurls in the air as she stares at the exiting colonists.

"Before what?" Tyr snaps as he glances impatiently at the colonists walking across the deck. Nothing of note there so why are Traand and Harper watching the Maru with such unease? Tyr shakes his head. He has had enough of this uninformative nonsense. He is not the least surprised by Trance's vagueness. She can be sharp enough when it pleases her, but on most occasions she is maddeningly opaque. But he expects better of his shieldbrother.

"Ahhh, well, ya see..." Harper begins again, only to fall silent as two dark-skinned Nietzschean males stomp impatiently through the hatch.

Nietzscheans? St. Clair had said nothing about any of them being in the colony. Tyr's eyes widen in shock as he turns an evaluating look on the twin males. Dreadlocked hair frames features that match his own except that one of the younglings has a small scar crossing his right brow. They are properly tall at 6-feet plus. Tunics of gold velvet stretch across their broad shoulders and narrow waists. The high collars are embroidered with black silk that echoes the color of their leather pants. The boys look and behave like proper Nietzschean offspring. They are clearly his, but where is the mother? Who is the mother?

Dylan watches as the two boys abruptly stop, staring toward him and Tyr with stunned expressions. The two boys go into a quick conference and apparently recovering their pose, swagger towards him and Tyr. Dylan glances sidelong at Tyr and asks in amused tones, spiked with mild malice, "Forget something?"

"Would it be your business if I did?" Tyr rumbles absently, his complete attention on the approaching boys. Their every feature echoes his. He can see no trace of whoever the mother might have been. And the boys seem to be alone. No parent paces protectively behind them. There is the remote possibilty that a related Kodiak has birthed his genetic double. It's rare but such events do happen. But again, where are the parents?

Harper steps between the two young men and addresses Dylan, but his eyes are watchful on Tyr's face. "Boss, allow me to present..."

"We are Bellerophon and Chimaera Anasazi of Kodiak Pride, out of Mariyam, by Tyr." The two young men speak impatiently together, thier gaze locked in wonder on Tyr's face.

"Yeah, right...Anasazi of Kodiak Pride," Harper repeats. His eyes chill slightly as he glances at Tyr. "How odd is that, huh boss?"

"Kodiak Pride?" Dylan ask. His tone is shocked, but the amusement in his gaze deepens. "Tyr?? Care to add anything here? I thought there were no other surviving members of Kodiak Pride. What is going on?"

"I am sure I don't know." Tyr murmurs in an aside, too quietly for the boys to hear. He shivers with revulsion at the possiblity that is rising in his thoughts. Mariyam? Could she be the mother? But how -- he'd been so careful once he discovered what she truly was. Could she have survived? He had thought her safely dead for all these years. His muscles tighten at the idea of being trapped on the same ship as Mariyam. Wait, maybe she had only survived long enough to bear his children. It does not mean that she is here now. If she isn’t here, then he will claim the boys and train them…assuming they have not inherited their mother's…peculiarities. The situation is startling, but not without possibility.

"Well, you've got to know something, Tyr Anasazi." Dylan raises his voice just enough that the twins can hear him easily. His teeth flash in a wide grin as he smiles at the boys. "They look just like you."

Chimaera takes a wary step closer to Tyr. His dark brown, deep-set eyes are wide with shock and amazement. "Tyr? You are called Tyr?"

"I am." Tyr empties his face and voice of all expression as he watches the boys reaction. The boys' emotions are all too easy to read. He will have to teach the pair to hide their emotions better if they are to survive among their own kind. With such openess the boys might as well hand their enemies a spear to stab them with. Has not his own shock betrayed more information to Dylan than he might wish? The Captain is now hot on the scent of a juicy secret but if Mariyam is dead, much can still be concealed from Dylan. However, if she lives…Tyr frowns, Mariyam always did talk too much and too freely for his comfort. Her existance will definitely limit what information he can keep from Dylan and the others. It is only to his shieldbrother and children that he owes any accounting of his past.

"You can not be…" Chimaera glances at his brother, measuring Bellerophon's reaction. His brother looks as if someone just hit him hard but Bellerophon's dark eyes glow with sudden hope. It is a hope that he feels echoing in himself. They have always been different; been outsiders in the colony, however much their mother might want to believe otherwise. This man is the first Nietzschean that they have ever seen in person. They'd been so excited when they'd heard the rumor that one of Andromeda's crew was like them. They'd hoped that the stranger might be persuaded to train them in Nietzschean ways. The few data discs that they'd been able to acquire and study have not been enough. The discs with all those hints and references to things that they did not know only left them feeling painfully incomplete and that was something they could only admit to each other. The possibility dancing before them now of having not just a stranger, but their own hero father to teach them Nietzschean ways…but what of their mother? She had said that their father was dead. Had she lied? Is this man lying? But why would either of them lie? "He can not be…Tyr Anasazi."

"I am Tyr Anasazi, out of Vic…" Tyr begins.

Chimaera finishes the lineage in a dazed voice, "…Out of Victoria, by Babarossa. You are our…"

"Father," Bellerophon murmurs softly. He moves closer, lips parted in wonder.

"We thought you..." Chimaera begins uncertainly as he and his brother slowly circle the Andromeda weapons officer from opposite directions carefully cataloging every aspect of his appearance. The colonial tunics that they are wearing suddenly seem wrong as he eyes the chainmail vest that exposes his father's powerful arms and shoulders. He is hyperaware of the irritatinush ush of his tunic sleeves against his forearms as he looks at the black leather guantlets protectively covering his father's forearms. At least thier black leather pants are apparently suitable wear for real Nietzscheans. Should they be wearing weapons? Their father has a gauss pistol holstered against his thigh that a knife hilt peeking over the top of the black boots?

"…were dead," Bellerophon finishes as the brothers end their circle, stag ing in front or. r. He lowers his voice as he murmurs to Chimaera, "Brother, look at his nose, his eyes…"

"…his hands…" Chimaera murmurs back to his brother. "He looks like us."

"What are they talkin' about, Big Guy?" Harper asks roughly as he looks from the twins to the man who is so obviously their father. His mouth thins in disapproval as he waits for a response. The man that he thought Tyr was would never have abandoned his children, but it's clear that Tyr is as stunned by these kids as he was when he first laid eyes on them among the departing colonists. His eyes narrow in suspicion. Why isn't Tyr asking questions about the mother -- unless the Nietzschean knows perfectly well who she is. Who is she? What's Tyr's relationship with her? And why didn't Tyr say anything to him when he left to help transport the colonists back to the Andromeda? He always knew that Tyr was a man of secrets, but he thought that Tyr trusted him. Tyr had named him shieldbrother after their experiences on the Magog Worldship. Did that count for nothing? What exactly does the shieldbrother thing mean? I'm I'm not sure." Tyr's deep voice is noticeably cool as he reponds to the human's question.

"He even sounds like us," Bellerophon whispers to his brother. He steps forward eagerly, raising his arm, bone blades fluttering in the traditional Nietzschean greeting. He drops his arm as his father steps back without returning the gesture.
Tyr eyes his sons warily. Until he knows whether they have inherited any of their mother’s habits, if indeed Mariyam is their mother, he has no intention of touching them. Touch only strengthened Mariyam’s abilities. How many of his secrets had she learned that way before he realized what she was? He will not endanger these two by permitting them to pick up knowledge than might well prove fatal to them. Mariyam never seemed to understand that some knowledge was secret because possessing it was dangerous. She only considered her own secrets important. Other peoples' secrets were trifles to be riffled through on a whim.

"Will you not acknowledge us?" Bellerophon demands, a flush of anger rising along his high cheekbones. His eyes narrow with temper and hurt.

"As fellow Nietzscheans if nothing else?" Chimaera growls as he glances quickly at the hurt on his brother's face. He can feel his bone blades quivering ready to snap out in reaction to his emotions.

Dylan glances assessingly from the boys to Tyr and raises an eyebrow. "Are these young men your progeny, Anasazi?"

"Yeah." Trance nervously pushes her blonde hair behind her ear. "Everybody knows you don't have any children. I mean except for Tamerlaine and we know what happened to him…sorry."

"Say something…anything," Harper whispers in exasperation. How can the Nietzschean just stand there in silence, staring at the stream of colonist exiting the Maru instead of responding to those two hurt kids watching with eyes full of hurt and hope. Harper frowns as he sees the amber eyes narrow coldly on something going on behind him. Harper turns around to see a petite human woman emerging from the crowd around the Maru. She walks slowly toward them, her eyes on Tyr. Her skin is the luscious color of milk chocolate. A sheer green veil covers her hair, enhancing rather than concealing the black hair that falls in , tw, twisted strands to her waist like coils of silk. A vivid green sari embroed hed heavily with gold thread flows over her full breasts and down to wrap around lush hips before falling to her ankles.

Who is she? Is she a former lover? The boys' mother? He doesn't like any of the possible answers that he is coming up with. Harper's frown deepens. What will her presence on board mean for him? He does not like the idea of Tyr spending time with this woman. He doesn't like it at all. She looks like a slippery customer. Reminds him of Satrina with that gloss of overt sexuality aimed like a weapon at designated targets. Is Tyr her target? Well, she's outta luck there. If he knows one sure thing about Tyr it's that the Nietzschean favors blonds but -- if she is the kids' mother -- then he can no longer be certain even of that bit of knowledge. He scowls intensely at the woman as she strolls closer. She has two kids with her so maybe she isn't the twins mother -- maybe she wants to talk to Dylan about something. Fine by him. Dylan is welcome to her. Just as long as she stays away from Tyr.

"Mother? Are you alright?" The boy next to her asks anxiously as the woman suddenly sways dramatically, leaning against him.

Mariyam pales. Gold bracelets chime and slid down her arm as she raises her hand to cover her mouth. St. Clair was right. It is Tyr. He's here. She never thought that she would ever see him again -- not the man who had fathered two of her children and betrayed her to her death…or so he had hoped. She tosses her hair back and slowly draws herself up she notices his cynical amber eyes watching her coldly.

"Mother?" The girl repeats, her eyes worried.

Mariyam pats the teenage boy’s arm. "I'm fine, Freyr."

"There is no need for concern, Freya." Mariyam turns a reassuring smile on her daughter whose features so closely mirror those of Freyr. She adjusts a fold of the girl's sea blue sari. "It's nothing. I was surprised to see someone I used to know. That's all."
riyariyam casts a glance over her shoulder at her latest husband, Wallace St. Clair. She can see the jealousy still simmering in his gaze. Wallace has been most perturbed ever since he saw Tyr on the Command Deck. She shakes her head. Apparently Wallace had never considered where her first sons had gotten thier impressive physiques and handsome faces from. Wallace can't hope to compare favorably to Tyr on a physical level and her husband has just enough sense to know it. She thought she'd convinced Wallace that he is as mighty in spirit and mind as Tyr is in body. She'd certainly put in several tedious hours in their bedroom attempting to reassure Wallace. Her real reasons for preferring Wallace as her current spouse were more pragmatic than flattering, but no reason for Wallace to know that. She is far more powerful than she has all Wal Wallace to know and well able to conceal her thoughts from him when she wishes. She reaches out mentally to him as she walks forward. {Dear God!}

{Yes, I told you. It is he, is it not?} Wallace moves to her side and takes her arm, displacing her children as her escort. Freyr and Freya fall in close behind the adults.

Mariyam sighs. Must he constantly touch her all the time? Really Wallace could be so tiresome in his need for reassurance from her. She can sense that he is half-hoping, all evidence to the contrary, that she will insist that no, it wasn't that beautiful Nietzschean who had shared her bed so long ago but some other Nietzschean. A really ugly one. How much more comfortable for Wallace was the belief that her first children had gotten their looks from her family. {By the divine, Wallace. It is.}

{We must tread carefully.}

Why? Tyr had learned some of her secrets, but not the most important ones. She'd realinot not long after taking him that the Nietzschean was not what she thought he was; that he was too strong and too intelligent to be the kind of consort that she needed. If he'd not left when he had -- Mariyam leans more heavily on her husband's arm. {Perhaps he doesn't remember. It was a long time ago…sixteen years. Do you think he will suspect anything?}

{Woman! How can he not remember you? You are as beautiful as ever. You also bore him twin sons.. He can't deny them. They bear the stamp of his genes.}

Mariyam smiles smugly. Wallace's appreciation of her beauty is one of his better quals. s. Tyr had always left her feeling that she didn't quite measure up to the Nietzschean women that he remembered from Kodiak Pride. There had been one -- Medea -- who made frequent appearances in his thoughts and dreams. What Tyr ever saw in that common blond huzzy -- Mariyam sniffs disdainfully. {But…what do we say? Maybe we can pretend it's a coincidence.}

{Unlikely.} Wallace's thought is as dry as burnt toast.

{Ahhh, yes. What have we done?}

"Mother! Who is this man?" Bellerophon whirls to face her. His dark eyes glitter with hurt and ire. His athletic body is tense with barely suppressed aggression. His bone blades quiver against the sleeves of his gold tunic.

Mariyam sighs. She knows all the signs. Her trouble child is about to have a first class temper tantrum if he is not headed off. Chimwoulwould then follow suit. Raising half-Nietzscheans has been no easy thing and if not for her rank and beauty, she would have had a great deal of trouble attracting another spouse with her first two boys running wild around the colony. Bell and Chi were so different from their half-siblings, Freya and Freyr. Teenage boys are bad enough, but Neitszchean teenagers…she sighs. They are in for it now and she is not certain that she has the resources to deal with both her eldest childand and Tyr after coping with the emergency situation facing her planet. She had hoped for a grace period before the boys discovered Tyr.

{Divine help us!} Wallace gives Bell and Chi an exasperated look.

{We should have expected this confusion and rage.} Mariyam forces patience into her thoughts. Neither she nor Wallace had been eager to open the topic of their father's possible existence with her oldest sons. Wallace never had patience enough to deal with the twins' quick-tempered touchiness. She had feared to say anything, in case Wallace was wrong about the crewman being Tyr. What a mess that would have made added to the other problems. One hint that their father lived and her eldest sons would have been all hot to race off and attempt to find Tyr. She should never have chosen a lie that made such a hero of their father.

{I must put a stop to this outburst.} Wallace scowls. His face flushes with anger and embarrassment. How dare those two act like this in public. He can almost feel the other colonists' eyes on him, watching this little family drama. Mariyam's first sons are such little barbarians. No matter how hard he tried with them, they had nothing but insolence and contempt for his efforts to teach them how to behave like civilized people. It didn't help that Mariyam allowed them those dreadful data discs about Nietzscheans.


{We must put a stop to this behavior, Mariyam.} Wallace pats her arm as he looks down at her. His wife makes far too many allowances for Bell and Chi's Nietzschean nature and the boys know and use it as an excuse for bad behavior. All Neitzscheans were nothing but barbarians at heart. His children were so much better behaved.

{I know…it's becoming most annoying.}

"NO! Don't look at each other! Look at me!" Bellerophon snaps, his bones blades flaring out as he loses control in his agitation. "Answer me! Who is this man? Is he Ana Anasazi? Is he our father?"

Wallace steps between Bellerophon and Mariyam and stares up into the tall boys' eyes. The staring match ends when the teen sullenly averts his eyes and steps back. Wallace turns his stare on Chimaera as the boy growls softly and flexes his bone blades.

"First of all, you will not take that tone with your mother. Ever! Am I understood?"

Both of the twins stare silently at him. Their bone blades ease back but their eyes are still full of anger and resentment. Wallace moves closer. "AM…I…UNDER…STOOD!?"

"Yes….sir." Bellerophon growls.

Wallace turns to Chimaera and lifts an eyebrow in question.

Chimaera nods. "Yes...sir."

Wallace steps back to stand next to his wife, he slides a possessive arm around her supple waist. He clears his throat and addresses her oldest sons. "To answer your question…this is Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria, by Barbarossa…your biological father."

Bellerophon and Chimaera trade sharp looks. Chimaera eyes Wallace suspiciously. "What? Is this some sort of trick? Our father is dead. He died sixteen years ago. You and our mother told us so...sir."

"Died?" Harper asks softly. He tries to catch Tyr's eye, but the Nietzschean deftly avoids his gaze.

"Fairly active for a dead man, Tyr," Dylan remarks. His eyes are bright with curiosity as his glance roams the circle of people standing around him.

"We thought he was dead, my s Mar Mariyam lightly touches the back of Chimaera's hand. She smiles wryly at her tense sons. "Yet, here he is."

Bellerophon and Chimaera look at Tyr, their eyes move over the familiar features hungrily. They reach out to Tyr but lower their hands slowly without touching as Tyr tenses. Chimaera asks, "Are you really our father?"

Freya stalks past her mother. At 6'1" she is tall and strong for her age. Her head is bare and her black hair wound in complex and striking design of knots. Her blue silk sari twitches with irritation as she wraps her arms protectively over Bellerophon and Chimaera's shoulders. She glowers at Tyr from behind her older brothers. "No! I don't believe it. It's a mistake! It has to be. Tyr Anasazi has been dead for almost 16 years. This…man…can not possibly be your father. Why the very idea is laughable. Wallace St Clair, out of Gretel, by William, is your father as well as ours! NOT this man! Tyr Anasazi is dead! And I say GOOD! Look at him, won't you? He doesn't know you or want you. He cringes at the thought of either of you touching him. You are mongrels…bastards as far as he's concerned! Isn't that right? Isn't that right, Nietzschean!?"

Tyr stares coolly back at the girl. How had the girl survived to her current age with so little emotional control and so little judgement. Nietzschean children knew when to listen and learn. And when to fight. Children did not introduce themselves into their elders' quarrels for their own protection if nothing else. Inserting oneself into an adult quarrel was to make the silent claim that one no longer was to be shielded from adult quarrels or intrigue. A wise youngling used the shield of youth as a game piece and stratagem until he was physically able to hold his own with an adult warrior. Miscalculation could result in death at worse, diminished status at best.

Freyr moves to stand next to his sister. He draws her protectively against his navy velvet jacket. He can feel fine shivers move through Freyra as she tries to control her reactions to all the emotions floating around them. She is getting better, but her control is still uncertain. This is just like his half-brothers, Freyr thinks as he pats his sister's shoulder. Bell and Chi were always in an uproar about something and drawing him and his sister into trouble. Freya was fiercely protective of her family and hsenssensitive to threats to it. She had been that way ever since she had first realized that her older brothers were different and largely disapproved of by the rest of the colonists. Not that he would stand by while any of his siblings were abused either. He had gotten into his share of fights over them as well, but Freya's empathetic abilities made her uniquely unsuited for fighting. She hurt herself as much as her opponent since she could not control the amount of input recereceived while fighting. Bell and Chi encouraged her to learn to fight and to solve problems with violence, but Freyr didn't think that they understood the price she paid for their approval. But how could they since Bellerophon and Chimera were psychically blind. He must not blame them for their limitations.

"Why didn't you stay dead?" Freyr demands as he stares at the big stranger who'd so upset his siblings. "Why won't you say something…anything? Or are you too perfect a Nietzschean to speak to kludge spawn…to mongrels! Of course, you are. How else could you have abandoned our mother?" Freyr lifts his hand palm outward.

Tyr transfers his cool stare to Freyr, refusing to answer the boy’s demands as he refused the sister. These other two are none of his and he owes them nothing. The two older boys are the only ones that he need concern himself with. His eyes widen as he feels the brush of…something. He growls in warning, bone blades flaring out. So, at least one of Mariyam's children has inherited some oddity from her strange genes.

Freya grabs her brother’s hand and shakes her head. She pulls Freyr back. "No, brother. He is not worth it."

"Wallace St.Clair, we love you, respect you, and have always been thankful that you are our father. Bell and Chi don't need him, or want him," Freyr adds with a disdainful jerk of his head in Tyr's direction. "You love us all and have cared for us these years. That man is not, has never been, father to our brothers…"

"You are," Freya finishes softly as she hugs Wallace.e gle glances over her shoulder to see if her other siblings have been moved but Bell and Chi are ignoring her and Freyr and Wallace.

Chimaera takes a step closer, inhaling his father's scent. Finally he and Bell have that much. Something that they thought that they would never have, never know. Tyr smells -- right. "Tyr…Father…our mother and Wallace have tol of of what you did to save her and the colony."

Tyr looks quizzically at Mariyam. What wild tale is this? Humans! A Nietzschean woman would have not told easy, dangerous lies instead of the truth if she had kept his offspring. A Nietzschean child would need to know exactly where he stood and what his relations and status with the Pride was. It was too easy to make a bad mistake if given misinformation.

"We know," Bellerophon eases closer to Tyr. "Everyone in our colony knows how you lured the enemy away from our camp so our mother would not be captured. You risked your life so that your wife and your clan would stay free. They told us of your bravery and your sacrifice. Fate has brought you to us."

"I think we should continue this discussion privately." Dylan frowns. "Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair, after you've settled into your quarters, please come my confee roe room. Tyr and I will be waiting there for you."

Mariyam glances at Wallace and nods. "Very well, Captain. We will join you shortly. Just let us get the children settled."

Tyr stands, watching as the St. Clair family walks away with Dylan.

Harper plants himself in front of the Nietzschean. "So?"

"So," Tyr responds flatly as he looks down at the determined human. What shall he tell Harper and how much? Will Harper understand or will it make Harper withdraw from him? He'd been so pleased earlier, thinking that finally Harper will be all his and now this. Suddenly he has sons and an enemy that he'd thought safely dead. He needs time to think.

"We need to talk."

"Not now," Tyr snaps and starts to strides away.

Harper grabs the Neitzschean's forearm. His hand closes firmly over a black leather gauntlet. "Yes. Now."

"No, Harper." Tyr shivers as the human's fingers press dangerously close to the extremely sensitive skin at the base of his bone blades. His anger at Harper's springing thisle mle mess on him without warning fades in the sudden heat of desire. His eyes warm, as he stares down at the human standing so close. His shieldbrother's delicious personal scent is only adding to the tension building in his thighs. His gaze focuses on the human's mouth.

"Tyr?"” Harper's eyes widen. His grip gentles then slowly slides away as he stares up into the dark amber eyes.

"Soon, little one…just not right now," Tyr promises huskily.


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