TITLE: Tyr's of Frustration

AUTHOR: S. Cross

RATING: Adult/Slash

SUMMARY: Tyr contemplates his situation and one High Guard Captain.

WARNINGS: pre-slash. Tyr/Dylan

PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Author's permission needed.

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine. No money made. No harm meant.

Author's note: Following this message will be my first attempt at Andromeda fic. I've written HL for over a year and dedicate my first (and only?) Andromeda piece to Sonia. Cause I blame her for inviting me here and getting me thinking about a certain hunky Neitzschean and teaching me how to spell the darn word.

This is not really a slash story. Slashy thoughts but that's all. I have read next to no Andromeda fic and so the following story is my own take on the beautiful one and how he feels about his shipmates etc. Pretty much plot free but lots of Tyr angst. Short and bitter-sweet.

Major spoilers to a couple of first season eps. 'Double Helix' and ones I don't know the titles to...all earlier eps, I think.

by S. Cross

It felt good. The slip and slide of skin against skin. Not too gentle. Hard, strong, a little painful even. The way he liked it. Prickles of sensation rushed through his thighs and gathered in his groin. Sweat broke out in the thick curls that grew there. A spiralling tendril of heat snaked it's way up his belly and grew, his honey gold skin becoming covered with a sheen of perspiration as the feeling travelled upward. His heart thundered out a beat of desire. The feeling shot up his throat and he moaned aloud. The sound of his own voice jarring him fully awake.

Tyr Anasazi, last surviving member of the Kodiak Pride, opened startled eyes. His hand still firmly gripping his cock. He had stopped pleasuring himself upon fully waking but didn't release his hold immediately. His thick and proud manhood twitched and begged in his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and for a moment considered finishing what he had unconsciously started. Instead he snarled and let go, the organ slapping hard against his belly. Denied and left hungry once again.

Tyr did what men, genetically enhanced or not, have done for centuries when faced with unwanted lust. He took a cold shower. And like many men, discovered that it didn't necessarily help. But Tyr wasn't a normal man, he was Nietzschean. And being Nietzschean meant that masturbation was a thing for a grown man to be ashamed of.

He slammed his fist against the metal of the shower stall, leaving a dent. Realizing, that probably wasn't such a smart move. The last thing he needed was for the Andromeda's sentient holographic persona to wonder what was damaging her insides and pop up beside him to investigate. That tiny and malnourished but ingenious human, Harper, had a twisted sense of humour. Programming the hologram of the ships artificial intelligence program into his own picture of the ideal woman. Tyr had to admit he hadn't done a bad job, not that he would ever compliment the boy. It was a shame that his mental brilliance came in such a defectively weak body.

Thinking of Harper did wonders for deflating his painfully hard member. Good. All Nietzschean's were programmed with vicious libidos but also blessed with extraordinary control. Tyr's self-control was slipping badly and a cause for concern. Pleasuring oneself was expected as a child but once the tests of manhood were completed it was a subject of ridicule. A Nietzschean warrior who was reduced to masturbating meant he couldn't entice a female to service his needs. And if you had no female that accepted you as mate then that rejection was based on a flaw. A genetic flaw or physical weakness. And Tyr knew his genetics were superior. Access to his own kind was the problem. And the fact that his Pride, his entire family, had been slaughtered by the Dragon Pride when he was still a young child. His mother had done her duty and sacrificed her own life to ensure her offsprings survival. But acceptance into another Pride was close to impossible.

Nietzschean's guarded their clannish genetic pools with their lives. Outsiders were seldom embraced from other Prides, not without being tested to ensure that sterility didn't exist and your DNA was up to standards. That the Pride of your birth was worthy of consideration. Even if it was, membership to any Pride was carefully considered by its Elders. Those Elders were always female, the true guardians of a Prides genetic future. Nietzschean women culled the weak and bred with the strong. Pitted their men against each other in battle to prove their superior genetic worth. Of course, a simple blood test was all the proof needed. But dominance in battle was the ultimate test of virility. And, Tyr growled to himself, he had never been beaten.

That thought brought with it the memory of Trance, jumping up and down with glee, when she threw Tyr to the floor during self-defence lessons. The move had surprised them both. Trance was the only one out of the other five crew members, running this vast ship, that Tyr willingly associated with. She was a mystery. An unknown race to all aboard. A strange purple skinned woman-child with a long arrow pointed tail. That tail's purpose a confusing question, until she had effectively used it against Tyr during another practise session. He had roared and charged her, fully meaning to intimidate and then teach her how to properly respond. Again, the seemingly naive child had surprised him. That tail could whip out and deliver a stunning blow. One day, perhaps, he would discover what people she belonged to. A part of him admitted that he spent time with Trance because he believed her to be like him - the last of her kind. She had somehow survived and the ability to survive was something Tyr could admire.

Survival, that's what mattered the most. Not this insatiable need he felt lately. Tyr stepped from the shower and shook his head, waist-length braids flying about him. He walked naked, skin still wet, back into his quarters. The chill, filtered air provided by Andromeda a welcome feeling. He'd felt much too hot these past few weeks. Hot for something he couldn't have. He was designed to breed, to be a father and husband. That was the goal of every Nietzschean male.

His people mated for life and there were far too many males compared to females. All females were treasured at birth. Only one in seven pregnancies resulted in a girl child. The male children were culled and those that survived culling and didn't suffer from the all too common problem of male sterility, worked hard to be picked by a woman to pass on their genetics. The rejected and sterile males remained warriors. Fiercely protecting the Pride and its family groups. Honoured, admired, but virgin and eternally frustrated.

Tyr had no doubt that if his fate had been different he would have been a chosen mate. He could count the times he'd engaged in intercourse on one hand. Hell, on one finger. And that one, sacred time was a treasured memory. He had been accepted grudgingly into a lost and isolated off shoot of the Orca Pride. That Pride was desperate for fresh seed and their beautiful treasure, Freya, chose him to mate with. The lead matriarch had taken his blood and sperm samples herself and deemed him a most worthy specimen. For one brief moment he had all he could want. A Pride to belong to. A woman to love and impregnate with his lineage. A chance to be have the greatest prize of all. To be a husband and father.

But he betrayed them. Betrayed her. He shook his head again and glared at himself in the cabin's mirror. Did he have a child coming? Doubtful even though pregnancy was inevitable. Nietzschean sperm was persistent. Full of chemicals to quicken a reluctant womb if necessary. But surely she would have chosen to terminate the offspring of a betrayer. He had left them after helping to destroy their home and returned to Dylan Hunt's side. He was a fool. But if he had to do it again? He didn't want to know the answer.

He'd removed the metal circlet from his biceps that declared him a husband/father. He imagined that Freya had too. The arm band depicted the symbol for a double helix. The joining of two genetically superior beings. He had lost his chance to fulfil what he most desired. Hunt had sought him out, after his return, and witnessed the removal of the metal helix. Had offered his condolences and seemed to understand what Tyr had given up. Hunt had seen the tears in his eyes. Twice now. Then and another time when he'd been forced to choose between betraying his own kind or standing by the ideals of this headstrong human. Tyr had chosen Dylan both times. Standing nude in front of his full length mirror, Tyr had to seriously question himself. Why?

Hunt was a relic. A High Guard Captain of a lost Commonwealth from hundreds of years ago. When the universe was united. Before the Nietzscheans took over and destroyed worlds. Before the Magog, those disgusting bat-faced flesh eaters, devoured worlds. Tyr had to wonder at the irony of his life. One of this crew, Rev Bem, was Magog...a follower of the benevolent Wayism cult. A reformed cannibal. And apparently the only member on board that Hunt fully trusted and relied on. Hunt had turned a handful of scavengers, bent on taking over the Andromeda Ascendant, into his new crew. Taking up a life and ideals that he'd held dear over three hundred years ago before a black hole and a quirk of fate had transported him into Tyr's universe. And delivered him into a time of anarchy among the sentient worlds. And the noble Dylan Hunt was determined to restore the Commonwealth with one High Guard vessel and five civilian crew members. The sheer balls on the man, astounded Tyr. And Tyr had agreed to join him. It was the best survival option available at the time. He was tired of being a hired assassin for the causes of greedy creatures whom he cared nothing about. And now? Something else kept him here. Something dangerously close to loyalty. Loyalty to Hunt. The man was such a do-gooder. Amazing that it hadn't gotten him killed yet.

Tyr continued gazing at himself, vain about his genetics but not necessarily his physical looks. One tended to go in hand with the other but good genes didn't alwaysmean beauty. That he was beautiful, wasn't a consideration. That he lacked a way to express his sexuality and gain some hormonal relief was. There was only one female on board who was even an option. Especially since one was a purple alien and the other a computer holograph. The human woman, Beka Valentine. She was a spitfire and had many good qualities but in truth, Tyr found nothing particularly attractive about the willful woman. And he believed the feeling was entirely mutual. Nietzscheans were hated and feared by most of the human race. Once they were supposed to be an improved version of humans but the unaltered human race fought against their own creation when it lived up to expectations. Superior beings tended to want to dominate. The rest of humanity was surprised at this, fools that most of them are. There were exceptions in Tyr's mind. The Andromeda's leader was one.

Captain Dylan Hunt, 340 year old relic from the past, came as close to beating him as Tyr had ever experienced. He'd out smarted him against taking over Andromeda and wasn't a bad match when it came to physical combat. Everything between them was a battle. Even when Dylan had determined to try and teach him basketball. Tyr had allowed himself to be taught and was irked at the sparkle of amusement in Dylan's eyes whenever he accepted the man's leadership. Whether in small or great matters. Tyr's very life had been at the hands of this genetically inferior male more than once and Tyr rebelled against the man whenever possible. But never enough to truly undermine Hunt's authority or effectiveness.

Worse the man wouldn't leave him alone. At first Tyr accepted Hunt's need to seek him out, whenever he stayed away from the small group too much. Tyr believed the reason was a lack of trust. He was a possible wild card in Hunt's mind and he wanted to keep tabs on him. Tyr understood that but not the other visits. Dylan would often gently bully him into doing activities with him. Like basketball. A passion of Hunt's and why he felt the need to share that passion with Tyr, the Nietzschean had no idea. There was almost nothing that Hunt wasn't passionate about. The Andromeda, basketball, saving the damn universe. And insisting that one reluctant Nietzschean understand his goals and motives. Tyr started out not caring, a defence used since childhood. Don't care and you can't get hurt. Keep your heart cold because you will never have a family to keep it warm. Hunt had been chipping at his barriers bit by bit. And he did have a bizarre kind of family now. On Andromeda.

The last thing that Tyr Anasazi would ever admit was how fond he'd grown of the others. He still wasn't willing to die for them, far from it. But there was grudging respect for all of them. Especially Hunt. Either he was going to kill the man or pledge to be his bond brother. That unwanted and surprising thought brought a gasp from Tyr's full lips.

Tyr's eyes grew wide with shock. He stared dumbfounded at the mirror but didn't need to see his own reflection to know what was happening. He could feel it. The errant thought of Hunt being taken as bond brother had his traitorous cock filling and rising before his eyes. Damn it! Tyr closed his eyes and reached down. His large hand firmly grasped both testicles and they were given a harsh pull. His nails digging into the vulnerable organs. The pain caused his erection to wilt but not disappear entirely. The situation was becoming intolerable and dangerous. "Damn you, Hunt." breathed Tyr. Turning from the mirror, his skin now dry from the shower, he quickly dressed. His cock and even his nipples sensitized and aching against leather and fine chain mail. Going to the bridge and joining the rest of Andromeda's motley crew was not a wise option. Not when he couldn't get himself under control. Seeing Dylan was the last thing he wanted.

Tyr raged against a fate which had placed him in the frustrating position of desiring an upstart pig headed human, over three hundred years his senior, to fulfill his primal urges. Bond brothers were not spoken about among Nietzscheans but they certainly existed. With so few available females and so many testosterone driven males it was inevitable. But the Pride Elders foresaw every problem regarding genetic purity and built solutions to such problems. All males were bred to fight and protect the Pride. Those not lucky enough or fit enough to breed and procure a life-mate were still valued warriors. But a main imperative was lost to those males. A warrior, rejected from breeding, could become dangerously unstable and the longer his virginity was enforced the more dangerous he became. That was actually a desired state for a warrior to be in. Unless it became self destructive or threatened the stability of the Pride.

So, among the Warrior caste, bond brothers emerged. Two men who pledged their bodies to each other and each other alone. A union taken as seriously as husband/father. The decision was never an easy one. To take a bond brother totally destroyed any future possibility of being accepted as a husband/father. Not because the female Nietzscheans considered it abhorrent but because a warrior bond was unbreakable. A woman's mate needed to use all his energies to protect her and their offspring. A bond brother would make that prerogative difficult. So all non-breeding males waited as long as possible before consenting to such a bond, especially if they were fertile. Hoping one day to be chosen as husband/father. Sterile males tended to pair bond with another warrior as soon as possible.

There were no metal helixes exchanged in such a union, but a private brand which marked them as bonded and was burned into the flesh by the leader of the Pride's warriors. Before officially sealing the bond, a pair fought naked and using no weapon but their bodies. A different version of the fight to gain the right to breed. All the other bond brothers of the Pride watching as witnesses. The warrior who lost the fight became Beta to the victor's Alpha - for life. In front of all assembled, the stronger warrior would take his Beta's virginity and seal the pact. The blood caused by that brutal first coupling smeared across the Alpha's face. Later, if both desired, there could be tenderness but not in front of the other warriors. Bond brothers had a far more positive aspect than providing a sexual outlet. Bonded warriors would fight to the death, not only for their Pride but for each other. The whole system had worked well for hundreds of years and Nietzschean warriors were the most feared in the galaxy.

With a frustrated sigh, Tyr left his quarters. He sought a safe place to brood and opted for the gymnasium. He had to get a physical release of some sort. So, once again his muscles would bear the brunt of his frustration. Tyr's musculature was extremely well-defined. Tyr was often frustrated. It took at least fifty, one-armed chin-ups, before thoughts of Dylan left his head. The simple focus and exertion of the exercise took over. It was perhaps when Tyr had pulled his weight up to the bar for the hundredth time that he felt a prickling between his straining shoulder muscles. He was being watched. He slowly lowered himself and turned. Not surprised at who stood watching him.

"Impressive." smiled Dylan. "I've never seen anyone do that many before or...want to."

Tyr decided to ignore the gentle chiding. He refused to fall for the bait. Hunt got under his defences far too often whether he knew it or not. Instead he reached for a nearby towel and wiped the sweat from his bare torso. Unfortunately his silence didn't deter Hunt from insisting on being sociable.

"So, things appear pretty quiet at the moment. How about a game of hoops?"

Caught off guard by the unfamiliar slang, Tyr responded. "Hoops?"

Dylan gave that soft chuckle that sometimes vibrated through his spine. Like now. He really had to get out of here and away from the man.

"Yeah, well that's an old term for basketball. What do you say? Give that over pumped body of yours something fun to do. Shoot a few baskets. You do know what fun is don't you Tyr? A chance to let your hair down?" Dylan's eyes took note of the thick braids that were presently tied back. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement.

"I've heard of the concept and I'd rather not. I plan on being busy." Dylan's eyebrows raised at that and Tyr saw the interest grow in his eyes. Wondering what he was up to and if it would affect the Andromeda, thought Tyr.

The Nietzschean turned his back on the man he fought against allowing to fully be his Captain. His groin once again throbbing at the sight of the tall muscled blonde. A problem he'd never experienced before until unbidden thoughts of bonding had entered his head. All because he was so desperate to function as a fully mature male that he'd lost all control and began to fuck his own hand while asleep. He'd purge these desires out of his mind if he had to flog himself alive to do it.

A heavy warm hand dropped on his bare shoulder, startling Tyr. He trembled at the touch. Muscles quivering and breath hissing inward. Dylan had never touched him except with aggression in battle or rough sports competition. This was different. This was firm and supportive. This was caring and Tyr froze at what it implied - that Hunt gave a damn about him.

"Let go, Hunt." The command came out more like a plea and was said so quietly that Dylan almost missed the words.

"What's wrong Tyr? You've been avoiding all of us like the plague lately. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, I am Captain. And as such, if I feel one of my crew is in trouble, I have a right to ask what it is and I expect an honest answer."

"There is nothing wrong with me. It's not exactly unusual for a Nietzschean to want to distance himself from genetically inferior races." Tyr hoped that Hunt took offence at that and left. Instead the aggravating man laughed. But at least he withdrew that hand. Tyr quickly pulled on his mail shirt.

"You keep telling yourself that Tyr." Dylan's tone was gentle, those eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe one day you might actually believe it."

Hunt was often the superior in verbal debates. Witty and sharp and sometimes he saw more than Tyr was comfortable with. But Tyr could take him in battle. At least he thought so. Tyr was taller, heavier and possessed greater muscle power. All the right genes were on his side. But Hunt had that undefinable quality which made him hard to defeat. Hunt had managed to defeat his plans to take over the Andromeda Ascendant. Had somehow managed to turn this Nietzschean from being his assassin to being his loyal crew member. Loyal enough to renounce a place among his own people. And if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, that was the problem wasn't it? That he submitted to Hunt's leadership. That made the human this ship's Alpha. But Tyr Anasazi of the Kodiak Pride was in fact the Alpha here. His own DNA proved it. But no one had ever gotten that point across to the primitive Hunt. So, Tyr bided his time, waiting for the proper moment tousurp command of Andromeda away from him. Except that the longer he stayed on this ship, the less inclined he felt to do that. Against his will, he grew to admire former High Guard Captain, Dylan Hunt. To respect all of the rag-tag group of scavengers who lived here. Not really wanting any of them harmed. He needed a clan and had the strangest one imaginable.

"Come on, let me buy you a drink." said Dylan, effectively breaking through the Nietzscheans thoughts, and giving Tyr a friendly swat on the back.

"I don't drink." was Tyr's reply. He had to ask, it was bothering him. "Hunt?" Dylan looked up into wide brown eyes. "Why are you trying to make friends with me?"

Dylan graced him with one of those smiles. A smile which said that the human knew a lot more than Tyr could imagine. "Because Tyr - you definitely need a friend and I feel up to the challenge."

"But you don't trust me." retorted the Nietzschean.

Dylan stared hard into a face that was curiously vulnerable in comparison with the size and strength of the body it was attached to. "I trust you Tyr. Against all my better judgements, I trust you. If the Commonwealth is ever to stand a chance, I have to have faith in my own damn crew. If I can't even do that...then nothing else will work."

Once again the simplistic truth that was Dylan Hunt, stunned Tyr. A man who was barely aware of what a feat it was to secure the loyalty of a fully activated Nietzschean Alpha male.

Tyr only nodded in acknowledgement of Dylan's words. "I think perhaps I will join you for a drink."

Dylan had been about to leave the gymnasium but halted and turned back in mild surprise. "I thought you didn't drink?" His tone was lightly teasing.

"What can I say? You're a bad influence on me." If only the human knew the half of it.

Dylan chuckled and led Tyr to the ship's large off-duty lounge. Time to be spent in the High Guard's warm company was a bit daunting. One thing was certain.

Tonight, while drifting asleep...Tyr would reach down once more for a pleasure denied him and cry out his frustration to the uncaring darkness.

The End