Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, just all original characters that
are presented herein.
This is the story of a young OZ commander by the name of Tobias Andarion and his struggle against the Gundams with a powerful Mobile Suit of his own. Throughout his days he will experience the thrill of war, the heartache of love, and painful loss of death. But he is a man, and he will cope in any way he can, even if it means killing those who have hurt him the most. The story begins.
*****
"Sir, the colony is clean. There is no sign of resistance left. All who opposed have been destroyed or captured."
Colonel Tobias Andarion growled, a deep vibration that came from deep within his throat and resonated across the office. "How many killed? And captured?"
"Seventeen killed and six captured. The rest ran into space."
He grunted. "Too many got away. Start the drill over. After you let them eat, of course."
The hologram of the colony faded, once again changing the room into a bland collection of walls and Virtual Reality units. The soldiers below all took of their helmets and stared around, readjusting to the reality around them and dismissing the illusion of the VR units. They began to file out of the room and went to the mess hall to eat. It was lunch time, after all.
"Would you like to see the scores, Sir?"
"That would be nice."
He looked at the pile of paper that was placed in front of him. "You are dismissed. Come back with the next batch of scores. We'll talk more than."
After his aide left, he began to rifle through the papers, glancing long enough to see the overall score, kills, and damage taken to dealt ratio. He suddenly stopped, staring at the paper in front of him. He began to read the other statistics. Kills: six. Perfect score. No damage taken. Perfect accuracy. Who was this man?
His gray eyes moved to the upper right corner and narrowed. It was a woman, and her name was Robyn Goodfellow. A pilot of her caliber did not come across this facility very often. He would have to talk to her. He rose and proceeded to the mess.
His eyes glanced around before he spotted the table where the women sat. They were busy talking and laughing, and he hated to interrupt their good time, since there were so little in a war. But he was the Colonel, and others did his bidding.
He slowly walked over and changed his mood to one of awkwardness and shyness. It was a ploy of course, to throw them off guard. He walked over, acting timid. "Excuse me, ladies?"
They stopped their conversation and turned to him.
"Can we help you?" They eyed him critically, noticing a lack of rank, insignia, and ribbons or other awards. They brushed him off as a flake.
"I'm looking for a Miss Robyn Goodfellow. Do you know where I can find her?"
They looked at each other before laughing at him. "Why? You gonna ask her out or something?"
He smiled and answered. "And what if I am? I can do whatever I damn well please."
They stared at him incredulously. "What a loser. Who do you think you are, the Colonel?"
"Actually, I am. Colonel Tobias Andarion, OZ Special Forces Corps, 3rd division, Blackhawks."
They stared at him in stunned silence. Finally, one girl stood up, her unruly mop of red hair tied into a loose ponytail. "I'm who you're looking for. What of it?"
The first thing he noticed about her was her height, or lack of it. She seemed to be around five feet tall, giving him an easy foot and a half over her. He found it slightly disorienting.
"I wish to talk to you about your scores. They were much different than the scores of all your peers." The crowd of girls began to whisper again. "Much better. Will you follow me, please?"
He led her to a quiet corner of the room, motioning for her to sit. He remained standing out of habit. "What I have here is your performance reports for the most recent test. I would like to share them with you. After you read them, I have a proposition for you."
She took the folder from him and scanned it, stopping every now and then to shake her head and mutter. When she was done, she looked up. "Surely there's some mistake. I couldn't have done this, there's no way. I'm too clumsy."
"Those are your scores. The test computer makes no mistakes."
She sat in silence for a moment. Eventually she ventured to ask, "What does this mean?"
"It means I would like to invite you to join the Blackhawks. You still need time to develop, however I see a potential in you that I have not seen in a long time. The offer stands for as long as you need to think about it. When you decide, tell me. You can find me in either my office or the hangar, working on my project. I take my leave of you. Good day." He turned to leave but was stopped.
"I don't need time to think about it. I would be honored to join your Blackhawks. What do I do?"
Tobias smiled. "First you need to go to the supply room and get your flight suit. I'll fill you out a form that will get you all the proper equipment fitted so that you can suit up like the rest of us. After that, it's just training, training, training. In any free time that you have, you can dig through our scrapyard and begin constructing a suit of your own. It's what most of our pilots do to pass the time. Plus, it allows them to know their machines like no other."
She smiled eagerly. "I love to tinker. So I'm ready to start now."
"Good." He grabbed a pen out of his pants pocket and filled out a requisition form in the folder on the table. He signed it with his unique scrawl. "Take this to the end of the hall. On your left, you'll find a door similar to the hangar but smaller. In it you'll find Charlie. She'll fit you for everything and have it to you by the end of the day. Next order of business. Your quarters are with the rest of the squadron, however, you are the only female to qualify so you get a room to yourself. The rooms are in the next building on the ground floor. It's easy to find. Any questions?"
"No. Can I go now? I want to get started. This sounds like fun."
He grunted. "War is hell. It's never fun. You can only try to survive." He turned on his heel and strolled out, his white hair and black cape swishing behind him.
*****
Rynn Skye was working in the hangar, its sole occupant, so he naturally turned when the door opened. He was surprised to see a young woman standing in the door, blinking in confusion. He stormed over.
"Are you lost?" His voice rumbled like thunder. "This is Blackhawk territory only."
"I know." Her answer surprised him. "Colonel Andarion sent me to supply but I think I got lost."
He eyed her skeptically. "The Colonel sent you. To supply? That makes it seem like you're joining the squad."
Her answer was defiant. "I am. I'm looking for supply so I can pick up stuff."
"Right. Let me see the requisition. Otherwise I'll have to call security and forcibly remove you."
Her verdant eyes snapped angrily. She took the requisition out of her pocket and handed it to him smugly. "Here you go, Mister Hotshot."
He took a moment to scan the paper before handing it back. "You know you're going to catch all kinds of shit. Women aren't welcome here. This is a man's squadron."
"I guess you guys will just have to learn, eh? And I bet I can out shoot you any day of the week." Her voice was boastful, and her eyes seemed to back up that boast.
Rynn eyed her scornfully. "Let me show you something. Follow me real quick."
He turned and led her into the depths of the hangar, where she saw several unique Mobile Suits. Each impressed her with its style and weapons. She ignored the hiss from the entrance and continued delving deeper into the hangar, following him until he stopped before the door to the scrapheap.
"In here is the scrapheap. It's also where my mobile Suit is moored. Whenever someone dumps something there, I'm the first to know and the first to get a chance to claim it."
"I notice that the scrapheap is also the farthest from the exit. I guess that means you're also the last one out of here in a fight. What's wrong, afraid to get hurt? Or do you not have a decent enough Mobile Suit to bring into combat." Her voice scathed him and he winced.
"Ouch." The Colonel stepped out of the shadows. "She got you there. You have to admit, you walked into that."
"I know. But what she said is completely untrue. You know my Suit is one of the highest rated in the squadron."
"Easy Rynn. I never agreed with her. I just said she got you there."
"Yes, Sir. I'm going to go work some on my Suit. I take my leave." He bowed once and entered the scrapheap, muttering about the state of the world.
"And you. Why aren't you at the supply office? I thought that's where I sent you." He eyed her.
"I thought this was the room. And then I got into an argument with him. And then you came in, so I really haven't had time."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I should take you there so you can find it. Follow me."
He turned and walked slowly so she could keep up. She ran at first, and eventually settled at a brisk walk. While they were walking through the construction zone, she looked around and asked, "Which one is yours?"
She didn't see him smile, but he stopped and pointed. "That one right there."
She turned to look and stared in open shock. It was massive; there was no other word. It stood about twenty meters tall and was painted a matte black. It blended almost perfectly with the shadows, except the weapons. They gleamed with every ray of light that struck them. She asked hesitantly, "Why does it glow like that? The weapons, I mean."
He grinned boyishly, in his element. "Crystal diffraction. I built the weapons for my self with the ability to attract any source of light to use as an energy source. The plasma rifle is strong enough without energy reserves, but in the full sunlight, it can destroy a Gundam if aimed properly. Fortunately, I have never needed to use it. Just the size alone will intimidate most opponents into surrendering. If that doesn't work, I have ways to persuade them, anything from my Katana to the name itself."
"Name?"
His eyes closed and he smiled grimly. "It's name is Blackheart."
*****
The next day, Robyn stared at the portion of the hangar she had been given. It was a small, cramped space, but she could learn to work in it. She would just build a smaller Mobile Suit. She turned as the ceiling opened and a cargo carrier gently landed. The pilot jumped out and looked around before spotting her.
He jogged over. "You a member of them Blackhawks?"
"Yes, sir, I am."
He grinned. "They finally got around to hiring a woman, did they? Cause I believe in proper etiquette, I think you get to look through this load of junk first, se if there's anything you want. And lemme tell ya, there's some right decent stuff this time."
She grinned back, noticing the sparkle in his eye, and then followed him to the freight hauler. He crawled up the side and looked into the huge carrying bay at the collection of metals and parts. Her eye caught a nearly unblemished chunk of metal. "Can you tell me, what's that big piece over there?"
"Don't know one I work for know. But I can tell you, it's real rare. Should grab it while you can, before that stuck up piece o' shit who calls himself Rynn grabs it for himself."
"I'll take it, along with any wire you got in there. I'll need a lotta that, too."
"All rightie then. I can do that, especially fer a pretty girl like you." He turned and clamored up and held a brief talk with the operator of the hauler. After a second he dropped down again. "Charlie'll have it here in a second. Anything else you need? Just ask, ya know."
"What's you're name?"
"Seth, ma'am. Just Seth."
"Seth. I'll remember that. And if you find one, can you get me the frame to an MS? I need somewhere to start." She blushed and turned her head away.
"Hey, no pro-bro-blemo. There's a war going on, so I can probably dig somethin' up. Now don't you worry about anything. I'll get it to ya pronto." He then tipped his hat and left, leaving a bewildered girl in his wake.
She turned to her space where the mysterious piece of metal had been deposited, but she found she didn't have the heart to work. Why did she have butterflies in her stomach? No man had ever made her feel this way before. Was it the way he talked, or was it his disarming personality? Her head ached at the thoughts running around before she just shook her head.
"He has that effect on all the women." She jumped and turned to see Tobias leaning in the doorframe. "You'll get over it eventually. He was moved here to keep from interfering with other squadron's women. But now they might move him again."
"There's nothing like that, I can assure you."
"Tell that to your flush. You look like you just fell in love." He looked at her knowingly. "Trust me, I was there once. Love just doesn't work out if you're in the military."
She became mad, angry with herself for being so easily read. "How do you do that? You seem to know what a person's thinking."
"It's my little secret. But that's the whole reason they made me a Colonel and gave me my own squadron. I don't mean to, it just happens." He shrugged his narrow shoulders, sending a ripple down his cape. "What're you up to?"
"I was looking at the area I was given to use as mine. Not a lot of room, but I can cope. I'll just have to compensate with a shorter MS. I just grabbed some stuff from the scrap hauler so I can start building as soon as I get a frame. Seth said he'd try to get me one."
"Actually, I have a spare frame in the hangar somewhere. No one uses it so if you need it, you can use it. It's a little taller than this area but I can make some adjustments so it will fit standing up like the rest of them."
"What kind of frame is it?"
"Upgraded, downsized Tallgeese."
"Tallgeese? I thought that belonged to Zechs Marquise."
"They were mass-produced at one time, until tests proved them to be unreliable for extended periods of fighting. Then they started producing Leos. It's there if you need it. Besides, it looks like you have enough room here for a coupla frames, at least. You can take the best from each."
She nodded hesitantly. "What's the catch?"
"It's been gutted of most of its important equipment so you'll have to look to find anything useful."
"That's it?"
"No, you don't owe me anything. That comes later, when you get something of greater importance. This is only something that's required to be a part of this squadron. I'll go talk to the guy who moves the stuff around here. Wait here a minute if you want. I'll be right back."
He jogged into the darkness, leaving her alone, bewildered with her thoughts.
*****
I have the start to something here that I think can have a lot of potential. However, I need some help coming up with some more pilots for the Blackhawks. Which means that if you want to appear in this, you can send me a pilot/MS profile for me to use. I would appreciate it very much.
Until the next chapter, The Colonel
This is the story of a young OZ commander by the name of Tobias Andarion and his struggle against the Gundams with a powerful Mobile Suit of his own. Throughout his days he will experience the thrill of war, the heartache of love, and painful loss of death. But he is a man, and he will cope in any way he can, even if it means killing those who have hurt him the most. The story begins.
*****
"Sir, the colony is clean. There is no sign of resistance left. All who opposed have been destroyed or captured."
Colonel Tobias Andarion growled, a deep vibration that came from deep within his throat and resonated across the office. "How many killed? And captured?"
"Seventeen killed and six captured. The rest ran into space."
He grunted. "Too many got away. Start the drill over. After you let them eat, of course."
The hologram of the colony faded, once again changing the room into a bland collection of walls and Virtual Reality units. The soldiers below all took of their helmets and stared around, readjusting to the reality around them and dismissing the illusion of the VR units. They began to file out of the room and went to the mess hall to eat. It was lunch time, after all.
"Would you like to see the scores, Sir?"
"That would be nice."
He looked at the pile of paper that was placed in front of him. "You are dismissed. Come back with the next batch of scores. We'll talk more than."
After his aide left, he began to rifle through the papers, glancing long enough to see the overall score, kills, and damage taken to dealt ratio. He suddenly stopped, staring at the paper in front of him. He began to read the other statistics. Kills: six. Perfect score. No damage taken. Perfect accuracy. Who was this man?
His gray eyes moved to the upper right corner and narrowed. It was a woman, and her name was Robyn Goodfellow. A pilot of her caliber did not come across this facility very often. He would have to talk to her. He rose and proceeded to the mess.
His eyes glanced around before he spotted the table where the women sat. They were busy talking and laughing, and he hated to interrupt their good time, since there were so little in a war. But he was the Colonel, and others did his bidding.
He slowly walked over and changed his mood to one of awkwardness and shyness. It was a ploy of course, to throw them off guard. He walked over, acting timid. "Excuse me, ladies?"
They stopped their conversation and turned to him.
"Can we help you?" They eyed him critically, noticing a lack of rank, insignia, and ribbons or other awards. They brushed him off as a flake.
"I'm looking for a Miss Robyn Goodfellow. Do you know where I can find her?"
They looked at each other before laughing at him. "Why? You gonna ask her out or something?"
He smiled and answered. "And what if I am? I can do whatever I damn well please."
They stared at him incredulously. "What a loser. Who do you think you are, the Colonel?"
"Actually, I am. Colonel Tobias Andarion, OZ Special Forces Corps, 3rd division, Blackhawks."
They stared at him in stunned silence. Finally, one girl stood up, her unruly mop of red hair tied into a loose ponytail. "I'm who you're looking for. What of it?"
The first thing he noticed about her was her height, or lack of it. She seemed to be around five feet tall, giving him an easy foot and a half over her. He found it slightly disorienting.
"I wish to talk to you about your scores. They were much different than the scores of all your peers." The crowd of girls began to whisper again. "Much better. Will you follow me, please?"
He led her to a quiet corner of the room, motioning for her to sit. He remained standing out of habit. "What I have here is your performance reports for the most recent test. I would like to share them with you. After you read them, I have a proposition for you."
She took the folder from him and scanned it, stopping every now and then to shake her head and mutter. When she was done, she looked up. "Surely there's some mistake. I couldn't have done this, there's no way. I'm too clumsy."
"Those are your scores. The test computer makes no mistakes."
She sat in silence for a moment. Eventually she ventured to ask, "What does this mean?"
"It means I would like to invite you to join the Blackhawks. You still need time to develop, however I see a potential in you that I have not seen in a long time. The offer stands for as long as you need to think about it. When you decide, tell me. You can find me in either my office or the hangar, working on my project. I take my leave of you. Good day." He turned to leave but was stopped.
"I don't need time to think about it. I would be honored to join your Blackhawks. What do I do?"
Tobias smiled. "First you need to go to the supply room and get your flight suit. I'll fill you out a form that will get you all the proper equipment fitted so that you can suit up like the rest of us. After that, it's just training, training, training. In any free time that you have, you can dig through our scrapyard and begin constructing a suit of your own. It's what most of our pilots do to pass the time. Plus, it allows them to know their machines like no other."
She smiled eagerly. "I love to tinker. So I'm ready to start now."
"Good." He grabbed a pen out of his pants pocket and filled out a requisition form in the folder on the table. He signed it with his unique scrawl. "Take this to the end of the hall. On your left, you'll find a door similar to the hangar but smaller. In it you'll find Charlie. She'll fit you for everything and have it to you by the end of the day. Next order of business. Your quarters are with the rest of the squadron, however, you are the only female to qualify so you get a room to yourself. The rooms are in the next building on the ground floor. It's easy to find. Any questions?"
"No. Can I go now? I want to get started. This sounds like fun."
He grunted. "War is hell. It's never fun. You can only try to survive." He turned on his heel and strolled out, his white hair and black cape swishing behind him.
*****
Rynn Skye was working in the hangar, its sole occupant, so he naturally turned when the door opened. He was surprised to see a young woman standing in the door, blinking in confusion. He stormed over.
"Are you lost?" His voice rumbled like thunder. "This is Blackhawk territory only."
"I know." Her answer surprised him. "Colonel Andarion sent me to supply but I think I got lost."
He eyed her skeptically. "The Colonel sent you. To supply? That makes it seem like you're joining the squad."
Her answer was defiant. "I am. I'm looking for supply so I can pick up stuff."
"Right. Let me see the requisition. Otherwise I'll have to call security and forcibly remove you."
Her verdant eyes snapped angrily. She took the requisition out of her pocket and handed it to him smugly. "Here you go, Mister Hotshot."
He took a moment to scan the paper before handing it back. "You know you're going to catch all kinds of shit. Women aren't welcome here. This is a man's squadron."
"I guess you guys will just have to learn, eh? And I bet I can out shoot you any day of the week." Her voice was boastful, and her eyes seemed to back up that boast.
Rynn eyed her scornfully. "Let me show you something. Follow me real quick."
He turned and led her into the depths of the hangar, where she saw several unique Mobile Suits. Each impressed her with its style and weapons. She ignored the hiss from the entrance and continued delving deeper into the hangar, following him until he stopped before the door to the scrapheap.
"In here is the scrapheap. It's also where my mobile Suit is moored. Whenever someone dumps something there, I'm the first to know and the first to get a chance to claim it."
"I notice that the scrapheap is also the farthest from the exit. I guess that means you're also the last one out of here in a fight. What's wrong, afraid to get hurt? Or do you not have a decent enough Mobile Suit to bring into combat." Her voice scathed him and he winced.
"Ouch." The Colonel stepped out of the shadows. "She got you there. You have to admit, you walked into that."
"I know. But what she said is completely untrue. You know my Suit is one of the highest rated in the squadron."
"Easy Rynn. I never agreed with her. I just said she got you there."
"Yes, Sir. I'm going to go work some on my Suit. I take my leave." He bowed once and entered the scrapheap, muttering about the state of the world.
"And you. Why aren't you at the supply office? I thought that's where I sent you." He eyed her.
"I thought this was the room. And then I got into an argument with him. And then you came in, so I really haven't had time."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I should take you there so you can find it. Follow me."
He turned and walked slowly so she could keep up. She ran at first, and eventually settled at a brisk walk. While they were walking through the construction zone, she looked around and asked, "Which one is yours?"
She didn't see him smile, but he stopped and pointed. "That one right there."
She turned to look and stared in open shock. It was massive; there was no other word. It stood about twenty meters tall and was painted a matte black. It blended almost perfectly with the shadows, except the weapons. They gleamed with every ray of light that struck them. She asked hesitantly, "Why does it glow like that? The weapons, I mean."
He grinned boyishly, in his element. "Crystal diffraction. I built the weapons for my self with the ability to attract any source of light to use as an energy source. The plasma rifle is strong enough without energy reserves, but in the full sunlight, it can destroy a Gundam if aimed properly. Fortunately, I have never needed to use it. Just the size alone will intimidate most opponents into surrendering. If that doesn't work, I have ways to persuade them, anything from my Katana to the name itself."
"Name?"
His eyes closed and he smiled grimly. "It's name is Blackheart."
*****
The next day, Robyn stared at the portion of the hangar she had been given. It was a small, cramped space, but she could learn to work in it. She would just build a smaller Mobile Suit. She turned as the ceiling opened and a cargo carrier gently landed. The pilot jumped out and looked around before spotting her.
He jogged over. "You a member of them Blackhawks?"
"Yes, sir, I am."
He grinned. "They finally got around to hiring a woman, did they? Cause I believe in proper etiquette, I think you get to look through this load of junk first, se if there's anything you want. And lemme tell ya, there's some right decent stuff this time."
She grinned back, noticing the sparkle in his eye, and then followed him to the freight hauler. He crawled up the side and looked into the huge carrying bay at the collection of metals and parts. Her eye caught a nearly unblemished chunk of metal. "Can you tell me, what's that big piece over there?"
"Don't know one I work for know. But I can tell you, it's real rare. Should grab it while you can, before that stuck up piece o' shit who calls himself Rynn grabs it for himself."
"I'll take it, along with any wire you got in there. I'll need a lotta that, too."
"All rightie then. I can do that, especially fer a pretty girl like you." He turned and clamored up and held a brief talk with the operator of the hauler. After a second he dropped down again. "Charlie'll have it here in a second. Anything else you need? Just ask, ya know."
"What's you're name?"
"Seth, ma'am. Just Seth."
"Seth. I'll remember that. And if you find one, can you get me the frame to an MS? I need somewhere to start." She blushed and turned her head away.
"Hey, no pro-bro-blemo. There's a war going on, so I can probably dig somethin' up. Now don't you worry about anything. I'll get it to ya pronto." He then tipped his hat and left, leaving a bewildered girl in his wake.
She turned to her space where the mysterious piece of metal had been deposited, but she found she didn't have the heart to work. Why did she have butterflies in her stomach? No man had ever made her feel this way before. Was it the way he talked, or was it his disarming personality? Her head ached at the thoughts running around before she just shook her head.
"He has that effect on all the women." She jumped and turned to see Tobias leaning in the doorframe. "You'll get over it eventually. He was moved here to keep from interfering with other squadron's women. But now they might move him again."
"There's nothing like that, I can assure you."
"Tell that to your flush. You look like you just fell in love." He looked at her knowingly. "Trust me, I was there once. Love just doesn't work out if you're in the military."
She became mad, angry with herself for being so easily read. "How do you do that? You seem to know what a person's thinking."
"It's my little secret. But that's the whole reason they made me a Colonel and gave me my own squadron. I don't mean to, it just happens." He shrugged his narrow shoulders, sending a ripple down his cape. "What're you up to?"
"I was looking at the area I was given to use as mine. Not a lot of room, but I can cope. I'll just have to compensate with a shorter MS. I just grabbed some stuff from the scrap hauler so I can start building as soon as I get a frame. Seth said he'd try to get me one."
"Actually, I have a spare frame in the hangar somewhere. No one uses it so if you need it, you can use it. It's a little taller than this area but I can make some adjustments so it will fit standing up like the rest of them."
"What kind of frame is it?"
"Upgraded, downsized Tallgeese."
"Tallgeese? I thought that belonged to Zechs Marquise."
"They were mass-produced at one time, until tests proved them to be unreliable for extended periods of fighting. Then they started producing Leos. It's there if you need it. Besides, it looks like you have enough room here for a coupla frames, at least. You can take the best from each."
She nodded hesitantly. "What's the catch?"
"It's been gutted of most of its important equipment so you'll have to look to find anything useful."
"That's it?"
"No, you don't owe me anything. That comes later, when you get something of greater importance. This is only something that's required to be a part of this squadron. I'll go talk to the guy who moves the stuff around here. Wait here a minute if you want. I'll be right back."
He jogged into the darkness, leaving her alone, bewildered with her thoughts.
*****
I have the start to something here that I think can have a lot of potential. However, I need some help coming up with some more pilots for the Blackhawks. Which means that if you want to appear in this, you can send me a pilot/MS profile for me to use. I would appreciate it very much.
Until the next chapter, The Colonel