fic (Far Away Suns (Andromeda/SG Atlantis) #2 #76 sun
Title: Far Away Suns
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis/Andromeda
Author: karrenia
Rating: PG
Characters: Ronon Dex and Tyr Anazasi
Summary: Two men from different but not entirely dissimilar backgrounds on
survival on finding common ground.
Words: 1,636
Prompt: #76 sun
LINK to the Big Damn Table: http://karrenia-rune.livejournal.com/21721.html
40/100
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM, Renaissance Pictures, Gekko Film Corp. etc. as do the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine. Andromeda and the character of Tyr Anazasi or any others mentioned belong to Tribune Entertainment and Fireworks Productions; again they are not mine. Note: This story picks up shortly after where the previous story. “Rumors of My Death” left off.
“Far Away Suns“ by Karen
For his part Tyr realized that after having endured hours being poked and prodded by the human doctor, Carson Beckett, who in a strange way reminded him a little of Seamus Harper, the engineer back aboard his former ship, the Andromeda Ascendant.
With a start it made Tyr realize that if he was going to make something of himself in this bold new world in which he found himself, he would have make more than just a token effort at ingratiating himself to the people in charge.
'Not that that should be too difficult," thought Tyr with a grim smile. He could turn on the charm whenever the occasion and the situation demanded it of him; and just
as quickly could turn it off just like that. '.
He tilted his head back and put up his booted feet on the chair directly in front of him, thinking over his next move and idly watching the comings and goings of the base's personnel as they sat down, talked amongst themselves, or sat alone.
Almost fifteen minutes or more later, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard walked into the dining area accompanied by the scientist, Rodney McKay, and a slight woman with long brown hair and a dusky-skinned complexion, and rounding out the small group was a tall man with dread-locks that came to his shoulder.
At the sight of the dread locks, Tyr almost instinctively reached up to brush away his own before the gesture was abruptly halted in mid-air upon realizing that that long hair had been shorn as one of the many steps long the on a self-appointed path that would take him to see his destiny fulfilled. The next Draco Museveni and leader of the Nietzchiean people.
However, there would always be that nagging and quite avoidable irony about destiny: somehow his version of destiny did not mesh that well with the universe's idea of destiny. Granted, he was very happy to be alive rather than the alternative; but at the moment he was very much at loose ends.
*****
It had begun with a mutual understanding that each of them would naturally mistrust the others motives and actions, and from there it would then gradually move into a much more active and aggressive give and take. As Teyla would have no doubt said in that soft but determined manner which that Ronon Dex had discovered could be very effective in both diplomacy and combat; they were much like two alpha males of a pack going at it. And in the back of his mind Ronon Dex rather appreciated the comparison.
For his part Tyr welcomed the challenge. As any warrior worth his salt knew all too wall inactivity and captivity, two not remotely dissimilar events tended to have a very detrimental effect on one’s muscles, mind and instincts.
And perhaps in the course of their sparring this Ronon might even be persuaded to give up some vital piece of information regarding the humans’ mission in the Pegasus Galaxy. Another than some vague explanation he had been handed by both Sheppard and Dr. Elizabeth Weir about exploration and expanding the horizons of human scientific and cultural knowledge.
Tyr realized that they were hedging their bets; playing coy with how much information and when they doled it out to a stranger. Even one who had been quite literally yanked and cut out of his own damaged space craft.
He hated owing anyone his life, even a friend; and he very badly wanted to know more. Maybe it was his newfound drive to succeed, maybe it was the instinct to survive, maybe it was simple curiosity to discover what they were so desperately attempting to hide from newcomers.
While he could well understand they felt that the must keep classified information on a need to know basis only; he would even have done the same were their situations reversed, but the need to find out more was eating at him.
**
Crack, thwack, crack, thwack and an occasional thud were the only sounds that punctuated the otherwise silent sparring match as wood on wood met and parte, met and parted in a span of time that neither participant cared to measure. It hardly mattered at this point. From the doorway which stood ajar both particpants were peripherally aware of John Sheppard watching the match with a wry grin plastered on his face.
From the first several passes both men had immediately registered his opponent as something beyond the ordinary; and if either had anticipated an easy match it would soon become quite obvious that that notion would quickly be drubbed out of them.
***
Interlude
Sitting on the floor drenched with the sweat of exertion both wondered if just perhaps some of the up until recently tension had a release in the mock-combat of the sparring match.
And as much as Ronon hated to admit he might just have underestimated Mr. Anaszasi; if he still could not bring himself to completely trust the big man he at least could respect his talent, strength and surprising speed for a man his size. \
Considering the other had almost met his death in a fiery ball against the eastern towers of the city it was only natural for him to be suspicious of the newcomer; the sparring match was as much his own idea to test the other’s mettle as it was a lead up to the questions he wanted to ask, and he could tell that Tyr was just as curious as about Atlantis and its residents.
“So,” said Ronon once he had deemed that he had sufficiently recovered and figured it was the appropriate time to launch into the questions he wished to ask.
Tyr nodded. “Your leaders will no doubt which to interrogate me.”
“Oh, I would not exactly term it an interrogation,” replied Ronon with a wry grin of his own. “But then I would have no way to determine what methods of ‘interrogiation’ you might have been accustomed to.”
“As an old friend once put it,” replied Tyr with as he shifted position slightly on the floor. “You would be surprised.”
“Actually, I think, and I might be entirely mistaken about this,” he trailed off and thought over his next words with care before adding. “I would hazard to guess that it would be you who has a great deal to learn about the Pegusas Galaxy.”
“And you’re the one to teach them to me?” Tyr replied with less of his usual superior sarcasm, because despite his instincts to maintain his caution, to disdain that he required assistance of any kind from these human the fact of the matter was that he did require their help.
While Tyr had managed to get a low level tech officer to show him a star map of the local cluster galaxy and to inquire in which century they were in; the answers to his questions had managed to quite startle him. Light years away from earth in the early part of the 21st century. Nothing of the universe he had left behind had ever been heard of: No Andromeda, no Nietzchieans, nothing of his old life. It had all been burnt away when his slip fighter crashed and burned in a fiery explosion.
Tyr was a survivor of long experience, and once his initial shock had subsided he could then look at his new situation in a different light. He needed more information, and he needed to cement new alliances. Thus far the people living and working on the Atlantis base seemed to be willing to do so. It would hardly be logical to spurn the first offer that came his way.
“Something like that,” replied Ronon with a grim nod and a concerted effort to not wince in pain at the aching and most likely bruising of his lower left ribs where a solid and quite powerful backhanded swing from Tyr Anazasis’s quarterstaff had was still making its presence felt.
“You recover pretty quickly for someone who nearly died. Ronon felt it was time to attempt another track of prying information out of the big man.
This Tyr fellow, judging both from observation, his own impressions of his demeanor and fighting style and from the conversation he had with Dr. Beckett realized that the man was as prickly, stubborn, and close-mouthed.
Prying information other than monosyllabic responses was going to be very difficult, but then Ronon Dex always was up for a challenge. And more importantly, he wanted to know what the man’s story was, were he came from, and Sheppard was correct., his friends and allies could always use another fighter; but it would not be easy.
At that moment John Sheppard strode all the way into the room and observed them for a bit before he added. “Nice going, fellers. When you feel up to it, I might even ask to go a round or two with you.”
“What makes you think you stand a chance, Sheppard?” was Ronon’s good-natured by slightly mocking rejoinder.
Tyr nodded. “I concur.”
“You seem to be a man of a few words,” replied Sheppard.
“When the situation warrants it.” Tyr nodded.
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis/Andromeda
Author: karrenia
Rating: PG
Characters: Ronon Dex and Tyr Anazasi
Summary: Two men from different but not entirely dissimilar backgrounds on
survival on finding common ground.
Words: 1,636
Prompt: #76 sun
LINK to the Big Damn Table: http://karrenia-rune.livejournal.com/21721.html
40/100
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM, Renaissance Pictures, Gekko Film Corp. etc. as do the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine. Andromeda and the character of Tyr Anazasi or any others mentioned belong to Tribune Entertainment and Fireworks Productions; again they are not mine. Note: This story picks up shortly after where the previous story. “Rumors of My Death” left off.
“Far Away Suns“ by Karen
For his part Tyr realized that after having endured hours being poked and prodded by the human doctor, Carson Beckett, who in a strange way reminded him a little of Seamus Harper, the engineer back aboard his former ship, the Andromeda Ascendant.
With a start it made Tyr realize that if he was going to make something of himself in this bold new world in which he found himself, he would have make more than just a token effort at ingratiating himself to the people in charge.
'Not that that should be too difficult," thought Tyr with a grim smile. He could turn on the charm whenever the occasion and the situation demanded it of him; and just
as quickly could turn it off just like that. '.
He tilted his head back and put up his booted feet on the chair directly in front of him, thinking over his next move and idly watching the comings and goings of the base's personnel as they sat down, talked amongst themselves, or sat alone.
Almost fifteen minutes or more later, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard walked into the dining area accompanied by the scientist, Rodney McKay, and a slight woman with long brown hair and a dusky-skinned complexion, and rounding out the small group was a tall man with dread-locks that came to his shoulder.
At the sight of the dread locks, Tyr almost instinctively reached up to brush away his own before the gesture was abruptly halted in mid-air upon realizing that that long hair had been shorn as one of the many steps long the on a self-appointed path that would take him to see his destiny fulfilled. The next Draco Museveni and leader of the Nietzchiean people.
However, there would always be that nagging and quite avoidable irony about destiny: somehow his version of destiny did not mesh that well with the universe's idea of destiny. Granted, he was very happy to be alive rather than the alternative; but at the moment he was very much at loose ends.
*****
It had begun with a mutual understanding that each of them would naturally mistrust the others motives and actions, and from there it would then gradually move into a much more active and aggressive give and take. As Teyla would have no doubt said in that soft but determined manner which that Ronon Dex had discovered could be very effective in both diplomacy and combat; they were much like two alpha males of a pack going at it. And in the back of his mind Ronon Dex rather appreciated the comparison.
For his part Tyr welcomed the challenge. As any warrior worth his salt knew all too wall inactivity and captivity, two not remotely dissimilar events tended to have a very detrimental effect on one’s muscles, mind and instincts.
And perhaps in the course of their sparring this Ronon might even be persuaded to give up some vital piece of information regarding the humans’ mission in the Pegasus Galaxy. Another than some vague explanation he had been handed by both Sheppard and Dr. Elizabeth Weir about exploration and expanding the horizons of human scientific and cultural knowledge.
Tyr realized that they were hedging their bets; playing coy with how much information and when they doled it out to a stranger. Even one who had been quite literally yanked and cut out of his own damaged space craft.
He hated owing anyone his life, even a friend; and he very badly wanted to know more. Maybe it was his newfound drive to succeed, maybe it was the instinct to survive, maybe it was simple curiosity to discover what they were so desperately attempting to hide from newcomers.
While he could well understand they felt that the must keep classified information on a need to know basis only; he would even have done the same were their situations reversed, but the need to find out more was eating at him.
**
Crack, thwack, crack, thwack and an occasional thud were the only sounds that punctuated the otherwise silent sparring match as wood on wood met and parte, met and parted in a span of time that neither participant cared to measure. It hardly mattered at this point. From the doorway which stood ajar both particpants were peripherally aware of John Sheppard watching the match with a wry grin plastered on his face.
From the first several passes both men had immediately registered his opponent as something beyond the ordinary; and if either had anticipated an easy match it would soon become quite obvious that that notion would quickly be drubbed out of them.
***
Interlude
Sitting on the floor drenched with the sweat of exertion both wondered if just perhaps some of the up until recently tension had a release in the mock-combat of the sparring match.
And as much as Ronon hated to admit he might just have underestimated Mr. Anaszasi; if he still could not bring himself to completely trust the big man he at least could respect his talent, strength and surprising speed for a man his size. \
Considering the other had almost met his death in a fiery ball against the eastern towers of the city it was only natural for him to be suspicious of the newcomer; the sparring match was as much his own idea to test the other’s mettle as it was a lead up to the questions he wanted to ask, and he could tell that Tyr was just as curious as about Atlantis and its residents.
“So,” said Ronon once he had deemed that he had sufficiently recovered and figured it was the appropriate time to launch into the questions he wished to ask.
Tyr nodded. “Your leaders will no doubt which to interrogate me.”
“Oh, I would not exactly term it an interrogation,” replied Ronon with a wry grin of his own. “But then I would have no way to determine what methods of ‘interrogiation’ you might have been accustomed to.”
“As an old friend once put it,” replied Tyr with as he shifted position slightly on the floor. “You would be surprised.”
“Actually, I think, and I might be entirely mistaken about this,” he trailed off and thought over his next words with care before adding. “I would hazard to guess that it would be you who has a great deal to learn about the Pegusas Galaxy.”
“And you’re the one to teach them to me?” Tyr replied with less of his usual superior sarcasm, because despite his instincts to maintain his caution, to disdain that he required assistance of any kind from these human the fact of the matter was that he did require their help.
While Tyr had managed to get a low level tech officer to show him a star map of the local cluster galaxy and to inquire in which century they were in; the answers to his questions had managed to quite startle him. Light years away from earth in the early part of the 21st century. Nothing of the universe he had left behind had ever been heard of: No Andromeda, no Nietzchieans, nothing of his old life. It had all been burnt away when his slip fighter crashed and burned in a fiery explosion.
Tyr was a survivor of long experience, and once his initial shock had subsided he could then look at his new situation in a different light. He needed more information, and he needed to cement new alliances. Thus far the people living and working on the Atlantis base seemed to be willing to do so. It would hardly be logical to spurn the first offer that came his way.
“Something like that,” replied Ronon with a grim nod and a concerted effort to not wince in pain at the aching and most likely bruising of his lower left ribs where a solid and quite powerful backhanded swing from Tyr Anazasis’s quarterstaff had was still making its presence felt.
“You recover pretty quickly for someone who nearly died. Ronon felt it was time to attempt another track of prying information out of the big man.
This Tyr fellow, judging both from observation, his own impressions of his demeanor and fighting style and from the conversation he had with Dr. Beckett realized that the man was as prickly, stubborn, and close-mouthed.
Prying information other than monosyllabic responses was going to be very difficult, but then Ronon Dex always was up for a challenge. And more importantly, he wanted to know what the man’s story was, were he came from, and Sheppard was correct., his friends and allies could always use another fighter; but it would not be easy.
At that moment John Sheppard strode all the way into the room and observed them for a bit before he added. “Nice going, fellers. When you feel up to it, I might even ask to go a round or two with you.”
“What makes you think you stand a chance, Sheppard?” was Ronon’s good-natured by slightly mocking rejoinder.
Tyr nodded. “I concur.”
“You seem to be a man of a few words,” replied Sheppard.
“When the situation warrants it.” Tyr nodded.