Pairing: Tyr X Harper (because I don't believe in anything else) 

Warning: R, Blood, maybe gore, Yaoi, heavy lime and citrus, AU…and possibly more.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, or the andromeda series, because if I did I wouldn't have to go to school any more…enough said.

Note: I decided to write this fic because I've wanted to write an andromeda one for a long time and honor genius and magnificent Seamus Harper and one muscle, creamy, sexy Tyr Anasazi (sorry if spelled wrong)… If you haven't notice a pattern I love to write AU's…just a little thing …I'm babbling now, sorry, please read

means scene change

'……' someone's thinking, duh

"……" someone's talking,  just for your benefit

Chapter 1

Pain……a numb sensation that seemed to stretch throughout his entire being, rendering him unmovable. His blood was boiling in liquid fire and causing his entire bottom half to sing in anguish. There was so much heat. Harper knew something had happened to his legs. The signals he sent form his brain to the limbs was unresponsive and only intense shock or fracture could do that to a body.

Heavy eyelids slowly opened, revealing emotionless twin orbs of gleaming sapphire. A blurry world greeted his sight, objects seeming to melt together with no success of ever becoming solid. Harper could feel tepid metal under him. The synthetic scrap seemed to seep through his wet clothes and moist skin, chilling him to the bone even though he knew he was burning as badly as if he were being thrown into a sun.

Slowly, his vision returned, giving him a partial view of the ground he was sprawled upon. It was the Maru. He was on the Maru. 'But what the hell happened?' he thought weakly. Harper struggled to breathe, his lungs felt as if they had collapsed within his chest.

Harper closed his eyes unable to look at the red and glistening grate he was lying upon. Things seemed shockingly all too vivid. Out of place even. Then, suddenly, a stomping sounded from near by. Vibrations shook his lifeless and limp body slightly from his prone position. Lips trembling, Harper tried as hard as he could to command his body to move, but no matter what the only result he got in return were agonizing whimpers.

The footsteps halted, letting the former silence to ensue once more. The only change was Harpers heavy breathing as he attempted to make himself invisible. Why was this happening? All they were supposed to do was a routine mission that ended in one big flop. Now he was lying injured in god knows where with no idea as to what happened to his comrades. Were they alive? Were they taken prisoner or even worse, what if he was the only survivor? What the hell would happen if the people of the planet that he landed on tortured him until he cracked and gave up all his secrets? Although most of the secrets he kept weren't worth all that much, except in his own twisted mind.

Finally, the footsteps started up again, coming closer and closer to Harpers position. He could count at least two pairs of feet but beyond that he couldn't discern much else. Since his headache was becoming a rather deafening noise in his ears making his pulse beat throughout his body. He could also now feel his legs, which meant that they weren't cut off or anything, but once the feeling came back so did the searing agony and it made him hard pressed not to scream out bloody murder.

Harper once more opened his eyes; now unable to hear anything but his own heartbeat and saw a pair of boots situated right before his face before he passed out cold.

"How is it?" a deep gravely voice resounded throughout the mostly vacant room. Walls made of stone looked grave yet well worn, showing that it had been inhabited for quite sometime. Torches were situated in certain areas, illuminating the room just enough to see but not enough to blind. Brownish-olive colored curtains were drawn over a pair of windows, which only let in a sliver of light from the moon outside. All in all the space was simple and only meant for one, either a slave or a person in poor health. It was a room for rest not one to live in.

"It's hard to say, gracious one. He's been out cold for a week's time. As you've told me, when you and the hunting pack found the ship you thought he was dead……along with the rest of the crew aboard." A man with long ashen locks said while he stepped beside the bed, his sun kissed hands moving over a pallid and still figure.

"As long as it lives, so I can question it, then you will be fine." The harsh voice said once again, before his presence left the room. The flaxen haired male sighed pushing back his patient's hair from a long marred neck. He couldn't believe the difference's that the strangers exhibited. One was purple, another was all hairy with an unpleasant furious look that didn't even bode well with his species, two others who seemed similar although one was taller and the other had more curves. Then there was another who was completely made of metal and circuits. He knew that something was strange about that one but when the hunting pack brought it to him he was shocked. Seeing sparks flying and metal jutting from portions of a body that looked similar to one of the others.

The only one that didn't look threatening was the one under his care at that very moment. He was small, pale, with flaxen gold hair, and glacier blue eyes, something you didn't see everyday. One of the odd things about him was the piece of metal situated in the right side of his neck.

When he had examined it, he had found a hole leading to god knows where, burns scorching about the metal disk, skin blistered and irritated. But the stranger was nothing like the body of bolts from before. He was actually warm to the touch and ethereal, for the lack of a better word. To bad he couldn't go further on the matter with it. He was just its doctor.

Sighing dramatically, he retracted his questioning claws from the bed sheets, ready to move on to the next patient in the room next door. Hopefully, the little creature would wake soon; his gracious one didn't like to wait for answers when something entered his territory without consent. And since this……boy……was the least intimidating, his gracious one didn't think much of it when he wanted to ask his questions to him. But unfortunately, he had suffered tremendous blood loss, as well as a few fractured and broken bones, one collapsed lung and severe burns.

To say that he lived, would be a miracle, but when you are in the hands of the best doctor planet side then there's no worry.

Tyr Anasazi, leader and alpha of the Kodiak (1) pride, paced his chambers uncertain as to how to deal with the issue at hand. One, he could just kill the whole lot of strangers and be done with it. It would leave no doors open and his pride could go on as it did without interruptions and incidents. But this ran the threat of ignorance, which he, as the Alpha of his people, could not rightfully let stand undiscovered. Two, he could keep only the ones which were the least threatening to him, which so happened to be the female that looked almost like a Nietzschean slave and the weak malnourished boy who had yet to come out of his coma for a week. He was the smallest among the group of odd travelers and therefore considered only a small fly on his radar. Yes those two seemed the least hostile and therefore would be spared……if the small one survived on his own.

The third option seemed the most interesting of the three. And that would be to wait, keep them all alive and healthy for the time being, interrogating them separately for the reason they had trespassed and where they had come from. He would keep the bulky, tall man locked up with only the doctor's frequent visits for the time being as well as the demigod creature. The bucket of bolts that still twitched and mumbled incoherent sentences about 'we're going down……systems are gone……Captain, I can't reach Harper anymore!' would be studied intently by his engineers. Finally, the purple clone of a woman, like the beast, would not be touched or bothered by anyone but the doctor, since such peculiarity and oddity that these beings brought would only lead to problems later on, the best solution would be to isolate it before it could start.

The strange thing though was that the three that barely resembled Nietzschean's did look a lot like the local slaves, in their pale skin and scrawny appearance, except for the burly man. As well as their low tolerance to disasters. It was almost too funny how susceptible their bodies were to damage.

"Why ……did this have to happen now?" he growled to no one in particular as he paced his room, eyes riveted to the floor below his feet. "Especially now that Shira has a vendetta to regain the pride stolen out from under him. What a waste of genetic space." Snarling, he strutted over to his maps and journals. His man had informed him of Shira's movements in the south. And for the lack of better information, he could only assume the worst. A knock on the door followed by a low grumble informed him of company and he grunted out an 'enter' before dropping down into his seat.

"Your Gracious One." The man bowed, "Shira's movements are heading in the direction of Batavia. He should reach the city in two days time. We have no knowledge as to why yet."

"Well, when you do……and only when it is deemed important report back in." The man bowed once again and turned on his heel quickly in order to fill out his orders but was stopped short by a gruff statement. "And find out anything you can about our visitors, either they are Shira's spies or another danger to add to a growing list."

The man nodded and left, closing the door silently. Yes, it was a wonderful start to the day.