A/N: Howdy folks. Welcome to my very first Andromeda fanfiction. I've written for other fandoms in the past, and since I've gotten hooked on Andromeda, my plot bunnies have refused to leave me alone. This happens sometime in the first season, mostly because I haven't seen past 'Oberosous' with the exception of very recent episodes. So hang on folks and enjoy the ride!
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. I only lay claim to Fiona, who is not to be confused with the Fiona that I use in my 'Lost' fic. Don't sue me, I have nothing that you would want.
Chapter 1: Meetings and Rescues
Tyr Anazazi moved swiftly through the corridor of the Draco-Kazov repair port. He blasted a passing guard before moving down another hallway. Looking around desperately, he realized that he was lost in the maze of corridors. Tyr shook himself in disgust. He was Nietzschean; he did not get 'lost.' However, he had been unconscious when he was brought into this fortress, so technically he could not be lost since he had not known his way to begin with.
Tyr jumped back behind a corner as a guard came down the hallway dragging a female human slave. "Fix it!" he ordered, throwing the female into a door.
To Tyr's surprise, instead of shrinking in terror, the girl straightened her shoulders and stared back at the Nietzschean. "Keep your shirt on," she quipped, punching in a code so the door would open. "I can fix anything. I'll have your tracking device up and running quicker than a Nightsider could steal it from you."
"See that you do," the guard snarled, thrusting a black box at the girl. "If that Kodiak escapes, it'll be on your head."
The girl's expression darkened. "Now, now, don't forget what'll happen if I end up dead."
The guard smiled wickedly. "Did I say anything about killing you? You can still work without your legs intact, don't you agree, kludge?" The Draco ran his eyes over the girl's petite form as though he would take great pleasure in dismantling her limb from limb.
A small spark of fear flittered through the girl's eyes, though it was quickly replaced with cool apathy. The guard snarled and turned her around, pushing her through the open doorway. "Get to work," he growled, before turning and stalking off.
Tyr waited until the guard was out of sight before slinking over to the open doorway. He peered into the room to see that it was a machine shop of some kind. The girl had her back to the door and was fiddling with various pieces of metal. Tyr carefully eyed the doorway and interior of the room for traps before sliding silently into the room. Holding his gun at ready, he moved slowly toward the girl. When he was within a few yards of her, his eyes widened in surprise as the girl whirled savagely, a large piece of pipe in her hand, ready to strike.
Tyr disarmed the girl easily, and brought his own weapon up to her face. Both individuals froze. Now that Tyr was closer to the slave, he saw that she was only around eighteen years old. Her pale skin was oddly illuminated under the machine shop's lighting, and her dark hair was naturally highlighted with streaks of blond. A silver collar rested just below the data port on her neck. Fiery green eyes stared up at him, and Tyr was struck with the notion that there was something oddly familiar about this girl.
"Who're you?" she asked, her hands raised in surrender, though her voice suggested nothing of the sort.
Tyr raised an eyebrow at the cockiness of a slave held at gunpoint. "Who do you think?" he asked elusivelessly.
The girl cocked her head slightly. "You're the one they're searching for," she said. She smiled. "The Kodiak that has Quator's knickers in a bunch." Tyr eyed the girl oddly before lowering his weapon slightly. He noticed the girl's data port and risked a quick glance around the machine shop. He lowered his gaze back to the girl's.
"What is your name?" he asked softly, an air of suspicion in his voice.
The girl studied him for a moment, clearly puzzled. "Fiona," she answered, crossing her arms across her chest.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, an idea forming in his mind.
Fiona snorted. "Too long," she answered with a laugh. Then her expression grew serious as she mentally tallied the years. "About eight years."
Tyr nodded, lowering his weapon even further. "You know your way around this facility? You are familiar with its computer systems?"
A look of pride crossed Fiona's face, and her smile grew. "Who do you think runs this joint? The Draco's barely have enough brain cells to pilot a cargo runner."
Tyr cocked his head slightly. "Indeed." He looked around casually, before propping his leg up on a crate. " I don't suppose you would be capable of helping me escape?"
Fiona's gaze turned suspicious. "Why would I want to do that?" she asked. "I don't really care to get on Quator's bad side."
The Nietzschean smiled and drew a silver key card out of his vest, playing with it in his hands. "What if I could offer you something priceless in return?" he asked. Fiona's eyes grew wide when she saw the key, and her hand flew to the back of her silver collar, fingers running over the key slot there.
"How'd you get that?" she asked softly. Tyr continued to flip the card back and forth between his fingers.
"I borrowed it from our good friend Quator." He studied the human before him briefly, before snapping the key card up in his fingers and tucking it into his vest. "But if it's too difficult for you…"
Tyr stared at her for a moment, before straightening and turning toward the door. The sound of Fiona's voice caused him to halt.
"It doesn't do me much good to be free if I'm still stuck on Virade," she said. "They'll find me eventually if I'm still here."
Tyr considered this for a moment. "If you don't help me, I could just kill you."
Fiona shrugged. "You could, but you won't. I'm no use to you dead, and even if you let me live, I'll be worse than dead when Quator gets his hands on me on me."
Tyr considered her answer. There was really only one solution to all of this, and he knew it. "Alright," he said. "If you help me, I'll take you with me. I'm sure my ship will be in need of repairs."
The girl smiled broadly and held out her hand. "I say you've got yourself a deal." Tyr studied her hand for a moment, hating himself for what he was about to do, and shook it.
"Alright then," he said. "What do you suggest we do?"