Post by Azrael on Oct 25, 2014 14:34:54 GMT -5
"Didn't see this happening."
Sean A. Watts, formerly known as Azrael during his time in the military, sat in front of the viewscreen as he watched again the news report showing clips of the conversational broadcasts between Milliardo Peacecraft and Treize Khushrenada. There were still occasional reports of mobile suits showing up here and there. Some crazy rumors about Gundams somewhere. The reliability of these reports were ranging from almost certainly happening to no-freakin'-way-in-Hades. Sean sighed and sat back in his chair.
"So this is how the next war starts. Kind of funny, really..."
Sean himself was no stranger to war. His father had been starting a militia for the Colonies. While his family was earth-born, they had moved out to the Space Colonies for job opportunities. They weren't extensive but they found what they could, did what they could with what they had available. The issue? His father was overly proud of being "Colonial". To the point that when Treize Khushrenada had decided the Colonies were better off unified with Earth rather than independent, he chose to scrounge up some Leo's and mining mobile suits to form a rough, rag-tag group of rebels. Seemed hopeless, but Sean's father was a former member of the Specials, so he was more than capable of strategizing around superior numbers and firepower.
However, they were eventually defeated. Worse, Sean got captured. He didn't go easily. In fact, for a 16 year old boy he fought more skilled and furiously than most men had. All the same, he was imprisoned. Then, adorned in his trademark blue dress uniform, the man himself Khushrenada actually visited him, with the legendary Lightning Count by his side. For whatever reason, they viewed him as having excellent piloting skills. They were going to make a deal: if he served a term of enlistment loyally, the other members of his team were released (albeit they would be monitored).
Sean agreed. What surprised him most of all was the trust they placed in him. They gave him a proper uniform and everything. But the chief surprise, the biggest wonder-struck thing of it all...was how completely un-evil both Treize and Zechs Merquis were. His father had taught him that they were nothing but the scum of existence, without a single redeemable quality. Quite the contrary, they were both noble, though Sean always felt Treize was misled in some of his views. Before you know it, Sean was part of the Organization of Zodiac. Thus he adopted the name "Azrael" after the Christian angel of retribution. He lived up to it with both his sense of judgement and skill in a mobile suit. Azrael did begin to see some of the wisdom in Treize's view points on unity and the need of a military-based government. That was what was absolutely scariest about Treize: His philosophy had more truth to it than anyone was willing to fully accept.
However, Azrael was further impressed by the nobility of the Sanc Kingdom. Needless to say, once it came about and Noin was looking for members to come defend the nation, he immediately switched sides. After so long piloting a Space Leo in combat, he began to tire of war. The constant fighting and utterly unaviodable collateral damage had started to weigh on his mind. Noin was beyond impressed with his piloting abilities and he quickly found himself in charge of one of their custom Taurus mobile suits. The battle where the Sanc Kingdom fell, however, was one he always remembered with frustration.
They had Heero Yuy with the Epyon Gundam, one of the deadliest Gundams in existence at the time, on their side. By all accounts, they SHOULD have won. Then Heero flew off and attacked their support squads, avoiding the direct combat. Outnumbered with a limited amount of Taurus mobile suits and a large amount of mixed combat mobile suits, some modern day, some nearly ten years old Azrael had commanded his team with all his ability. He had organizationed field artillery strikes, fall back points.
In the end, they lost. They battled long and hard, they had battled and did impressive but it ended with the fall of the Sanc Kingdom and with Relena Peacecraft given a position over the planet government. Azrael's Taurus had been heavily damaged beyond repair but thankfully, most of his team had survived. Nothing ate at him emotionally more than that battle. He never knew why Heero went out like that and picked probably the worst strategy available but it was what it was.
For the most part, he chose to retire at that point. Things had gotten crazy and he didn't even know who was on who's side anymore. His father had contacted him, insisting that they reform a militia. Azrael was 25 at the time, experienced and well-trained in war and the military. He aimed to completely ignore it and let the powers that be decide whatever would happen. Furthermore, he had considered his father a biased lunatic out of touch with reality on much of anything. If you ever wanted to know exactly what WASN'T true, just listen to Azrael's father rant about the earth-based governments.
Then Zechs lost himself.
During his time in OZ, Azrael had never gotten to do more than occassionally say hello or have a few lengthy conversations on the morality and dignity of soldiers and dueling with the legendary pilot. Azrael had grown to respect Zechs deeply though he could tell there was a sadness to him he carried. He had been startled to discover that he was actually the son of King Peacecraft of the Sanc Kingdom himself. But he was beyond horrified to know that Zechs had chosen to lead the White Fang and attack the Earth. Treize had called up all and any willing to serve him to defend the Earth to join the Treize Faction. It was the saddest day of his duty but he knew what had to be done. Thus, he once again piloted a Space Leo in support of Treize. The idea of serving one commander he had grown to admire in a battle against another that was essentially his hero was emotionally difficult.
It couldn't have ended worse in his eyes. Treize was presumed killed by Wufei, Zechs was assumed missing in action after he sacrificed himself to stop the Libra. He had learned later about the mind-shattering affects that the "Zero" system could have on an individual. It was a relief, in many ways. When the battle was finally over amid the space around Earth, they seemed to have some peace. Then, Mariemahae rose up. The daughter of his commander. It was difficult to pinpoint the emotions he felt when he saw the child of his commanding officer leading a terrorist faction. That was a battle he chose to stay completely out of. And he was grateful that he did. There wasn't a side he could have fought for and felt good about.
Now this.
Sean had given up being Azrael and he'd be the first to admit that he sometimes felt bitter that all his years serving in the military, trying to do the right thing had amounted to him becoming a blasted security guard for a company (mainly due to his hand to hand combat prowess). Him and his father had a huge falling out. They lived damn near next door and didn't have anything to say to each other because Sean quite frankly refused to accept his father's extremist views concerning the Earth governments. His father, Andy, was firmly convinced that the UESA and the Sanc Kingdom were over-controlling, evil demons. And nobody had the right to disagree with Andy, he knew all on this topic. Sean snorted to himself thinking of that.
If there's one thing that grew out of this peace, it was the animosity these two had developed for each other. Andy had attempted to shun Sean to teach him a lesson. It backfired. Sean quite frankly refused to apologize or make any peace with his father. The end result was the two hating each other probably more than any father and son should. But it was what it was. Sean had blasted his father publicly, calling him a liar, extremist and oppressive parent. His father had tried to justify his every act and treat Sean like he was ignorant for believing there was any good from the Earth.
Sean turned as he heard a beeping sound on his cell phone. Opening it, he answered the call. "What's up, Jordan?" he said.
"Hey, Sean, is it true what I heard about your dad, man?" Jordan asked. He sounded excited. Nervous, even.
Sean frowned. "I ain't spoke to him in forever. Besides, with all these mobile suits dropping from the sky, I--"
"That's it, man!" Jordan exclaimed. "I heard he has one!"
Sean's eyes widened in fear. "Wait, what?!"
"They said a big one fell near here and your father and some of his friends grabbed one of the connex's, then took off with it."
A horrible icy fear suddenly stabbed Sean in the gut. Do not tell me that freakin' madman has a mobile suit, he thought. "Hey, can I call you back? I gotta go. Peace!" He slapped the phone shut, then quickly ran out and climbed up frantically to the top of his house. He knew his father had a specific place where he kept stuff of importance, a patch of grass out near a mountain near the outskirts of his house. Whipping out his military-issue binoculars he kept, he looked in the area and zoomed in for maximum magnification.
"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered as he tried to calm down and look around the collection of tree's for anything. Anything at all. He scanned the area, then stopped as he saw something. Men moving around. A large container with one side open, showing a stark red mobile suit knelt down as if before something or someone of authority. The typical stance used as a way of lowering the hatch of a mobile suit to a level more accessible to the pilot or engineers. He reared back in surprise as he saw what was in the massive connex. A Scorpio mobile suit.
"Oh, flying--" he finished with a curse word, then scrambled back down and hopped into his house. Grabbing his custom uniform and trench coat, he quickly put on his trademark red eye mask (influenced by his appreciation of Zechs Merquis), then hopped in his car. He drove as fast as he could down the roads. Screw the police, if they wanted to follow him that suited him fine. It'd lead them right to his and take the mobile suit out of his father's hands.
However, in accordance with Murphy's Law, the one time he absolutely would have loved to be caught speeding and chased for it, the police were nowhere to be found.
Sean fell back into the background of his mind. Azrael was taking charge. Sean needed to die and stay dead for awhile. This wasn't a role for his civilian mentality. This was a time for the soldier, the warrior to take over. His car careened through the woods, zipping right in the area. In a heartbeat, several of the men jumped to the side to avoid getting ran over as he ran his car towards the mobile suit, then brought it to a screeching halt near it.
"Sean!" Andy barked, standing out amidst the rest with his heavyset but powerful looking frame, bushy mustache and fatigues. "Boy, what the hell are you doing?!"
Azrael whirled around, grabbed a two throwing knives and charged forward, flinging them at the thighs of the two nearest him. They knew what he was doing. Azrael sprinted towards the connex, then whipped out a handgun and fired at the ground, then aimed it at his father. "Back off." His voice was different. Hoarse. Grating.
Andy glared at his son indignantly. "No son, YOU back off! You're outnumbered."
"Maybe so, but we both know how many casualties you'll take trying to take me done." It was said simply. Not with arrogance or mockery. It was said with cold efficiency. "So which of your men are you willing to sacrifice?"
That caused them to hesitate. It was easy for everyone to mention how they outnumbered a man with a gun. It was different to volunteer as the first man to get shot by that gun. Azrael held it firmly and aimed it at his father. His father gave him a hateful look that he usually reserved for enemies.
"You do this, I won't ever forgive you," Andy warned him.
"What makes you think that I forgive you?" Azrael retorted. "You were never a father. You never wanted a son. You wanted a soldier." Azrael stepped back closer to the mobile suit. "You got something a lot more. And a lot worse. Less obediant, a helluva lot more defiant and capable. You got Azrael. And the biggest issue, old man? Azrael never considered you a father. I only considered you a liability." The others around him were looking around, trying to gauge what to do.
"There's no damn 'Azrael' boy, your name is Sean." Andy said angrily.
"Beg to differ, old man," Azrael said. "Sean could never hurt any of your friends. Sean could never do this. You really think that gentle boy was a part of this? He went to another part of my mind. And right now, Azrael is in charge. And Azrael...can do this." He turned and fired a shot at one of the men, hitting him in the shoulder. The man cried out and fell back while the others started in surprise. Azrael's gun went right back to his father. "The Avenging Angel has returned, Pops. And I've deemed you unfit for duty. Now back off or I start picking your men off one at a time."
Begrudgingly and humiliated to not be the total bad-ass of fear and intimidation he once was to his son, Andy stepped back a few steps. The others followed suit, save a few that chose to pull the man he'd shot away and try to heal him. Azrael stepped back and pushed a button, activating the hatch on the Scorpio. With an audible hiss of air and the sound of hydraulic gears powering up, it slowly lowered to reveal the leather seat and panels of the cockpit.
"I am going to freakin' kill you for this, boy," Andy said in a low, menacing tone.
"You ain't as young as you used to be, Pops," Azrael said, using the term he knew he hated most. "And even in your prime, we both know who would have come out on top. So don't kid yourself. If I were you, I'd be trying to find another mobile suit. Because this one is history."
"How can you do this?!" Andy roared. "The Earth is full of people trying to take away our rights! The Colony leadership are trying to be there for us while the Sanc Kingdom tries to steal our freedom and very independence! You're intelligent, so use it!"
Azrael stepped back into the cockpit, keeping the gun aimed at his father. "Yeah, 'cause those arguements always worked so well in the past. Go to hell, Pops. And take your prejudice, biased beliefs with you. You're not my father anymore. You're not even a man. I'm blasting this mobile suit to bits and pieces. We don't need another war. We need to learn to live with each other. People like you are a prime example." He hit the control to close the cockpit, making sure to keep his gun aimed at his father until it closed finally.
Azrael promptly uncocked his gun, put it on safety and holstered it immediately as he eyed the controls. "All right," he said as he grabbed them and promptly piloted the Scorpio mobile suit to stand up right and start walking forward as Andy and his men scattered. "Now I gotta find a safe place to self-destruct this thing." He looked down to make sure the jet engine pedestal was there, then carefully pumped it. He was surprised how fast and how high it went up and then went down with a loud thud. "Damn!" he breathed. "Okay, powerful engines. Let's see if we can get out of here and to a mountain maybe." He flew the mobile suit carefully to the mountain side, marvelling at it's abilities. "Whoa! Whooooaaaa!" he couldn't help but laugh. It's reaction time, it's agility...not even the Taurus mobile suits were this good. Grinning, he landed it on top of a massive cliff carefully, making sure it could take the mobile suits mammoth weight.
"Okay, lessee...."He muttered as he looked at the controls. "Where's the self-destruct on this thing?" He blinked and frowned. He kept looking left and right. "Uhhh...." he leaned back as something finally hit him. "Does it have a self-destruct mechanism?" He knew a lot of mobile suits had them but not all. He made a thoughtful face as he realized if there was a self-destruct control, it was very carefully hidden. Which would almost defeat the purpose of it being used in combat. "Ooookay... maybe I can hide the blasted thing." Now that would be a challenge. This mobile suit was surprisingly tall and wide, much larger than most mobile suits he had seen before, minus perhaps the Tragos but even then only in sheer width and depth.
"Unidentified mobile suit," a voice chimed in on the intercom. Azrael turned his head to it with a look of mild surprise, then flipped the transmist button.
"This is...Azrael, piloting the Scorpio mobile suit," he said.
"Azrael, this is the Air Force. You will disengage any combat abilities and be escorted to the nearest military base," the male voice said.
Azrael turned and looked at his radar, noting two blips on it. Turning the mobile suit to aim it's camera located in the head at it, he zoomed in to see two military jets flying nearby.
"Azrael, did you copy that last transmission?"
"Uhh....no. Could you say again please?" He had to stall and think about this for a moment. What guarantee did he have that they wouldn't do something with this mobile suit as well? No, no, screw that...how did they just happen to be in this area?
"Roger, I say again: You will disengage any combat abilities and be escorted to the nearest military base."
"Standby, please. Trying to get these controls figured out properly." Azrael frowned. Something wasn't right here. He wasn't sure who this was or if they really were from the military. He wouldn't put it past his father to have some military jets scavenged or salvaged from an abandoned base. But he didn't want to get in trouble with the authorities either. That was the bad part about Earth. The Colonies had smaller area's, so you basically knew who was what. But Earth was so big, you couldn't tell this from that. Not to mention a lot of people had taken over old OZ and Romefeller military bases that had been abandoned. Some had stolen weapons, vehicles... there were even rumors of some trying to have their own nation declared, though it never really got anywhere.
Bottom line: He could trust neither the authorities here or his father's men. This mobile suit could not be put in the wrong hands. While not a Gundam, it was still a powerful elite-level mobile suit. Sean made his decision. Hitting the transmit button again, he said, "Okay, I got everything set. Which direction do we go?"
"Head North by Northeast, at approximately 20 degrees."
"Acknowledged, direction 20 degrees," Azrael responded, turning his mobile suit that direction and pumping the jets to power. He eyed a switch that said "Flight mode". "Activating 'flight mode'." he said over the radio.
"Say again?" The airman sounded confused. Azrael himself was fully sure what to expect but he felt the mobile suit twisting and moving as it assembled itself into mode more properly designed for faster flight travel.
Holy crap, can this thing exit the Earth's atmosphere? he wondered as he assumed the controls, then blasted off, leaving the jets behind him rapidly.
"Unidentified mobile suit, pull back and-"
Azrael cut the communications off, then turned to look at a few more panels. It had oxygen-creating systems sure enough and the armor was something tough. According to the stats on one computer screen, it was Neo-Titanium armor. More than capable of enduring Earth's atmosphere. If those jets really were military, that meant that probably every base available was on the look out for him. With it's anti-mobile suit artillery and missiles warming up and available. He grimaced. Space was about the one place he could go to right now. He had been exposed and was right near a military base. They could shoot him down before he got out of flight mode properly to defend himself. And he had no desire to fight his own people at his own home. Nearly 100% positive it could make the flight to space, he pulled up on the controls and blasted the engines as fast as he could. Gripping the controls, he held on tightly and admittingly more than just a little nervously as the cockpit shook around, then finally simmered down until he found himself looking at stars and blackness.
"Whoa," he said softly. He forgot how beautiful space could be at times. He adored the Earth and everything about it. But sometimes....being in the vastness of space and stars could have an effect on you. He leaned back smiled. "Been awhile, huh?" he said to no one in particular. He sighed and let out a breath. So...he couldn't destroy this mobile suit. No self-destruct system that he was aware of. Home was now exile and his father would almost certainly dime him out. He was alone in space, with this new high-tech mobile suit....and not much else.
"So what am I gonna do now?" he breathed out as he looked bleakly at the stars. "...what am I gonna do now...."
First thing was first: He was going to put on a damn space suit and aim for the furthest space colony he could find.
Sean A. Watts, formerly known as Azrael during his time in the military, sat in front of the viewscreen as he watched again the news report showing clips of the conversational broadcasts between Milliardo Peacecraft and Treize Khushrenada. There were still occasional reports of mobile suits showing up here and there. Some crazy rumors about Gundams somewhere. The reliability of these reports were ranging from almost certainly happening to no-freakin'-way-in-Hades. Sean sighed and sat back in his chair.
"So this is how the next war starts. Kind of funny, really..."
Sean himself was no stranger to war. His father had been starting a militia for the Colonies. While his family was earth-born, they had moved out to the Space Colonies for job opportunities. They weren't extensive but they found what they could, did what they could with what they had available. The issue? His father was overly proud of being "Colonial". To the point that when Treize Khushrenada had decided the Colonies were better off unified with Earth rather than independent, he chose to scrounge up some Leo's and mining mobile suits to form a rough, rag-tag group of rebels. Seemed hopeless, but Sean's father was a former member of the Specials, so he was more than capable of strategizing around superior numbers and firepower.
However, they were eventually defeated. Worse, Sean got captured. He didn't go easily. In fact, for a 16 year old boy he fought more skilled and furiously than most men had. All the same, he was imprisoned. Then, adorned in his trademark blue dress uniform, the man himself Khushrenada actually visited him, with the legendary Lightning Count by his side. For whatever reason, they viewed him as having excellent piloting skills. They were going to make a deal: if he served a term of enlistment loyally, the other members of his team were released (albeit they would be monitored).
Sean agreed. What surprised him most of all was the trust they placed in him. They gave him a proper uniform and everything. But the chief surprise, the biggest wonder-struck thing of it all...was how completely un-evil both Treize and Zechs Merquis were. His father had taught him that they were nothing but the scum of existence, without a single redeemable quality. Quite the contrary, they were both noble, though Sean always felt Treize was misled in some of his views. Before you know it, Sean was part of the Organization of Zodiac. Thus he adopted the name "Azrael" after the Christian angel of retribution. He lived up to it with both his sense of judgement and skill in a mobile suit. Azrael did begin to see some of the wisdom in Treize's view points on unity and the need of a military-based government. That was what was absolutely scariest about Treize: His philosophy had more truth to it than anyone was willing to fully accept.
However, Azrael was further impressed by the nobility of the Sanc Kingdom. Needless to say, once it came about and Noin was looking for members to come defend the nation, he immediately switched sides. After so long piloting a Space Leo in combat, he began to tire of war. The constant fighting and utterly unaviodable collateral damage had started to weigh on his mind. Noin was beyond impressed with his piloting abilities and he quickly found himself in charge of one of their custom Taurus mobile suits. The battle where the Sanc Kingdom fell, however, was one he always remembered with frustration.
They had Heero Yuy with the Epyon Gundam, one of the deadliest Gundams in existence at the time, on their side. By all accounts, they SHOULD have won. Then Heero flew off and attacked their support squads, avoiding the direct combat. Outnumbered with a limited amount of Taurus mobile suits and a large amount of mixed combat mobile suits, some modern day, some nearly ten years old Azrael had commanded his team with all his ability. He had organizationed field artillery strikes, fall back points.
In the end, they lost. They battled long and hard, they had battled and did impressive but it ended with the fall of the Sanc Kingdom and with Relena Peacecraft given a position over the planet government. Azrael's Taurus had been heavily damaged beyond repair but thankfully, most of his team had survived. Nothing ate at him emotionally more than that battle. He never knew why Heero went out like that and picked probably the worst strategy available but it was what it was.
For the most part, he chose to retire at that point. Things had gotten crazy and he didn't even know who was on who's side anymore. His father had contacted him, insisting that they reform a militia. Azrael was 25 at the time, experienced and well-trained in war and the military. He aimed to completely ignore it and let the powers that be decide whatever would happen. Furthermore, he had considered his father a biased lunatic out of touch with reality on much of anything. If you ever wanted to know exactly what WASN'T true, just listen to Azrael's father rant about the earth-based governments.
Then Zechs lost himself.
During his time in OZ, Azrael had never gotten to do more than occassionally say hello or have a few lengthy conversations on the morality and dignity of soldiers and dueling with the legendary pilot. Azrael had grown to respect Zechs deeply though he could tell there was a sadness to him he carried. He had been startled to discover that he was actually the son of King Peacecraft of the Sanc Kingdom himself. But he was beyond horrified to know that Zechs had chosen to lead the White Fang and attack the Earth. Treize had called up all and any willing to serve him to defend the Earth to join the Treize Faction. It was the saddest day of his duty but he knew what had to be done. Thus, he once again piloted a Space Leo in support of Treize. The idea of serving one commander he had grown to admire in a battle against another that was essentially his hero was emotionally difficult.
It couldn't have ended worse in his eyes. Treize was presumed killed by Wufei, Zechs was assumed missing in action after he sacrificed himself to stop the Libra. He had learned later about the mind-shattering affects that the "Zero" system could have on an individual. It was a relief, in many ways. When the battle was finally over amid the space around Earth, they seemed to have some peace. Then, Mariemahae rose up. The daughter of his commander. It was difficult to pinpoint the emotions he felt when he saw the child of his commanding officer leading a terrorist faction. That was a battle he chose to stay completely out of. And he was grateful that he did. There wasn't a side he could have fought for and felt good about.
Now this.
Sean had given up being Azrael and he'd be the first to admit that he sometimes felt bitter that all his years serving in the military, trying to do the right thing had amounted to him becoming a blasted security guard for a company (mainly due to his hand to hand combat prowess). Him and his father had a huge falling out. They lived damn near next door and didn't have anything to say to each other because Sean quite frankly refused to accept his father's extremist views concerning the Earth governments. His father, Andy, was firmly convinced that the UESA and the Sanc Kingdom were over-controlling, evil demons. And nobody had the right to disagree with Andy, he knew all on this topic. Sean snorted to himself thinking of that.
If there's one thing that grew out of this peace, it was the animosity these two had developed for each other. Andy had attempted to shun Sean to teach him a lesson. It backfired. Sean quite frankly refused to apologize or make any peace with his father. The end result was the two hating each other probably more than any father and son should. But it was what it was. Sean had blasted his father publicly, calling him a liar, extremist and oppressive parent. His father had tried to justify his every act and treat Sean like he was ignorant for believing there was any good from the Earth.
Sean turned as he heard a beeping sound on his cell phone. Opening it, he answered the call. "What's up, Jordan?" he said.
"Hey, Sean, is it true what I heard about your dad, man?" Jordan asked. He sounded excited. Nervous, even.
Sean frowned. "I ain't spoke to him in forever. Besides, with all these mobile suits dropping from the sky, I--"
"That's it, man!" Jordan exclaimed. "I heard he has one!"
Sean's eyes widened in fear. "Wait, what?!"
"They said a big one fell near here and your father and some of his friends grabbed one of the connex's, then took off with it."
A horrible icy fear suddenly stabbed Sean in the gut. Do not tell me that freakin' madman has a mobile suit, he thought. "Hey, can I call you back? I gotta go. Peace!" He slapped the phone shut, then quickly ran out and climbed up frantically to the top of his house. He knew his father had a specific place where he kept stuff of importance, a patch of grass out near a mountain near the outskirts of his house. Whipping out his military-issue binoculars he kept, he looked in the area and zoomed in for maximum magnification.
"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered as he tried to calm down and look around the collection of tree's for anything. Anything at all. He scanned the area, then stopped as he saw something. Men moving around. A large container with one side open, showing a stark red mobile suit knelt down as if before something or someone of authority. The typical stance used as a way of lowering the hatch of a mobile suit to a level more accessible to the pilot or engineers. He reared back in surprise as he saw what was in the massive connex. A Scorpio mobile suit.
"Oh, flying--" he finished with a curse word, then scrambled back down and hopped into his house. Grabbing his custom uniform and trench coat, he quickly put on his trademark red eye mask (influenced by his appreciation of Zechs Merquis), then hopped in his car. He drove as fast as he could down the roads. Screw the police, if they wanted to follow him that suited him fine. It'd lead them right to his and take the mobile suit out of his father's hands.
However, in accordance with Murphy's Law, the one time he absolutely would have loved to be caught speeding and chased for it, the police were nowhere to be found.
Sean fell back into the background of his mind. Azrael was taking charge. Sean needed to die and stay dead for awhile. This wasn't a role for his civilian mentality. This was a time for the soldier, the warrior to take over. His car careened through the woods, zipping right in the area. In a heartbeat, several of the men jumped to the side to avoid getting ran over as he ran his car towards the mobile suit, then brought it to a screeching halt near it.
"Sean!" Andy barked, standing out amidst the rest with his heavyset but powerful looking frame, bushy mustache and fatigues. "Boy, what the hell are you doing?!"
Azrael whirled around, grabbed a two throwing knives and charged forward, flinging them at the thighs of the two nearest him. They knew what he was doing. Azrael sprinted towards the connex, then whipped out a handgun and fired at the ground, then aimed it at his father. "Back off." His voice was different. Hoarse. Grating.
Andy glared at his son indignantly. "No son, YOU back off! You're outnumbered."
"Maybe so, but we both know how many casualties you'll take trying to take me done." It was said simply. Not with arrogance or mockery. It was said with cold efficiency. "So which of your men are you willing to sacrifice?"
That caused them to hesitate. It was easy for everyone to mention how they outnumbered a man with a gun. It was different to volunteer as the first man to get shot by that gun. Azrael held it firmly and aimed it at his father. His father gave him a hateful look that he usually reserved for enemies.
"You do this, I won't ever forgive you," Andy warned him.
"What makes you think that I forgive you?" Azrael retorted. "You were never a father. You never wanted a son. You wanted a soldier." Azrael stepped back closer to the mobile suit. "You got something a lot more. And a lot worse. Less obediant, a helluva lot more defiant and capable. You got Azrael. And the biggest issue, old man? Azrael never considered you a father. I only considered you a liability." The others around him were looking around, trying to gauge what to do.
"There's no damn 'Azrael' boy, your name is Sean." Andy said angrily.
"Beg to differ, old man," Azrael said. "Sean could never hurt any of your friends. Sean could never do this. You really think that gentle boy was a part of this? He went to another part of my mind. And right now, Azrael is in charge. And Azrael...can do this." He turned and fired a shot at one of the men, hitting him in the shoulder. The man cried out and fell back while the others started in surprise. Azrael's gun went right back to his father. "The Avenging Angel has returned, Pops. And I've deemed you unfit for duty. Now back off or I start picking your men off one at a time."
Begrudgingly and humiliated to not be the total bad-ass of fear and intimidation he once was to his son, Andy stepped back a few steps. The others followed suit, save a few that chose to pull the man he'd shot away and try to heal him. Azrael stepped back and pushed a button, activating the hatch on the Scorpio. With an audible hiss of air and the sound of hydraulic gears powering up, it slowly lowered to reveal the leather seat and panels of the cockpit.
"I am going to freakin' kill you for this, boy," Andy said in a low, menacing tone.
"You ain't as young as you used to be, Pops," Azrael said, using the term he knew he hated most. "And even in your prime, we both know who would have come out on top. So don't kid yourself. If I were you, I'd be trying to find another mobile suit. Because this one is history."
"How can you do this?!" Andy roared. "The Earth is full of people trying to take away our rights! The Colony leadership are trying to be there for us while the Sanc Kingdom tries to steal our freedom and very independence! You're intelligent, so use it!"
Azrael stepped back into the cockpit, keeping the gun aimed at his father. "Yeah, 'cause those arguements always worked so well in the past. Go to hell, Pops. And take your prejudice, biased beliefs with you. You're not my father anymore. You're not even a man. I'm blasting this mobile suit to bits and pieces. We don't need another war. We need to learn to live with each other. People like you are a prime example." He hit the control to close the cockpit, making sure to keep his gun aimed at his father until it closed finally.
Azrael promptly uncocked his gun, put it on safety and holstered it immediately as he eyed the controls. "All right," he said as he grabbed them and promptly piloted the Scorpio mobile suit to stand up right and start walking forward as Andy and his men scattered. "Now I gotta find a safe place to self-destruct this thing." He looked down to make sure the jet engine pedestal was there, then carefully pumped it. He was surprised how fast and how high it went up and then went down with a loud thud. "Damn!" he breathed. "Okay, powerful engines. Let's see if we can get out of here and to a mountain maybe." He flew the mobile suit carefully to the mountain side, marvelling at it's abilities. "Whoa! Whooooaaaa!" he couldn't help but laugh. It's reaction time, it's agility...not even the Taurus mobile suits were this good. Grinning, he landed it on top of a massive cliff carefully, making sure it could take the mobile suits mammoth weight.
"Okay, lessee...."He muttered as he looked at the controls. "Where's the self-destruct on this thing?" He blinked and frowned. He kept looking left and right. "Uhhh...." he leaned back as something finally hit him. "Does it have a self-destruct mechanism?" He knew a lot of mobile suits had them but not all. He made a thoughtful face as he realized if there was a self-destruct control, it was very carefully hidden. Which would almost defeat the purpose of it being used in combat. "Ooookay... maybe I can hide the blasted thing." Now that would be a challenge. This mobile suit was surprisingly tall and wide, much larger than most mobile suits he had seen before, minus perhaps the Tragos but even then only in sheer width and depth.
"Unidentified mobile suit," a voice chimed in on the intercom. Azrael turned his head to it with a look of mild surprise, then flipped the transmist button.
"This is...Azrael, piloting the Scorpio mobile suit," he said.
"Azrael, this is the Air Force. You will disengage any combat abilities and be escorted to the nearest military base," the male voice said.
Azrael turned and looked at his radar, noting two blips on it. Turning the mobile suit to aim it's camera located in the head at it, he zoomed in to see two military jets flying nearby.
"Azrael, did you copy that last transmission?"
"Uhh....no. Could you say again please?" He had to stall and think about this for a moment. What guarantee did he have that they wouldn't do something with this mobile suit as well? No, no, screw that...how did they just happen to be in this area?
"Roger, I say again: You will disengage any combat abilities and be escorted to the nearest military base."
"Standby, please. Trying to get these controls figured out properly." Azrael frowned. Something wasn't right here. He wasn't sure who this was or if they really were from the military. He wouldn't put it past his father to have some military jets scavenged or salvaged from an abandoned base. But he didn't want to get in trouble with the authorities either. That was the bad part about Earth. The Colonies had smaller area's, so you basically knew who was what. But Earth was so big, you couldn't tell this from that. Not to mention a lot of people had taken over old OZ and Romefeller military bases that had been abandoned. Some had stolen weapons, vehicles... there were even rumors of some trying to have their own nation declared, though it never really got anywhere.
Bottom line: He could trust neither the authorities here or his father's men. This mobile suit could not be put in the wrong hands. While not a Gundam, it was still a powerful elite-level mobile suit. Sean made his decision. Hitting the transmit button again, he said, "Okay, I got everything set. Which direction do we go?"
"Head North by Northeast, at approximately 20 degrees."
"Acknowledged, direction 20 degrees," Azrael responded, turning his mobile suit that direction and pumping the jets to power. He eyed a switch that said "Flight mode". "Activating 'flight mode'." he said over the radio.
"Say again?" The airman sounded confused. Azrael himself was fully sure what to expect but he felt the mobile suit twisting and moving as it assembled itself into mode more properly designed for faster flight travel.
Holy crap, can this thing exit the Earth's atmosphere? he wondered as he assumed the controls, then blasted off, leaving the jets behind him rapidly.
"Unidentified mobile suit, pull back and-"
Azrael cut the communications off, then turned to look at a few more panels. It had oxygen-creating systems sure enough and the armor was something tough. According to the stats on one computer screen, it was Neo-Titanium armor. More than capable of enduring Earth's atmosphere. If those jets really were military, that meant that probably every base available was on the look out for him. With it's anti-mobile suit artillery and missiles warming up and available. He grimaced. Space was about the one place he could go to right now. He had been exposed and was right near a military base. They could shoot him down before he got out of flight mode properly to defend himself. And he had no desire to fight his own people at his own home. Nearly 100% positive it could make the flight to space, he pulled up on the controls and blasted the engines as fast as he could. Gripping the controls, he held on tightly and admittingly more than just a little nervously as the cockpit shook around, then finally simmered down until he found himself looking at stars and blackness.
"Whoa," he said softly. He forgot how beautiful space could be at times. He adored the Earth and everything about it. But sometimes....being in the vastness of space and stars could have an effect on you. He leaned back smiled. "Been awhile, huh?" he said to no one in particular. He sighed and let out a breath. So...he couldn't destroy this mobile suit. No self-destruct system that he was aware of. Home was now exile and his father would almost certainly dime him out. He was alone in space, with this new high-tech mobile suit....and not much else.
"So what am I gonna do now?" he breathed out as he looked bleakly at the stars. "...what am I gonna do now...."
First thing was first: He was going to put on a damn space suit and aim for the furthest space colony he could find.
Hahahahaaaaaaaa!