Red vs Blue and its characters are the creation of the crew at Rooster Teeth and is itself based on Halo, by Bungie and Microsoft.

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Washington's banana froze halfway to his helmet as two armored figures slid onto the bench on either side of him.

"Well?" asked York.

"Well what?" Washington answered, voice squeaking on the last note.

"Come on," North goaded gently. "You know you want to show us."

Wash straightened his posture, "The AI regulations clearly state that—"

"Don't give me that," York cut him off.

"Yeah," said North. "You took a lot of punishment during implantation . Stuck in the infirmary for three days!"

"The Counselor says you were spewing 'nonsense and four kinds of bodily fluids.' Your medical file now states that you wet the bed on four separate occasions."

Wash choked on his Pringles.

"Oh no," said York.

"Give him the Heimlich!" said North.

"You give him the Heimlich!"

Wash forced the oversalted imitation potato back down the right pipe. "Look, I don't actually remember any of that part, okay?"

"Yeah, memory loss, weird side effects, whatever. Just be glad it wasn't inverted penis."

Wash narrowed his eyes, "Reggie told me you made that up."

"We did show you ours," said North.

"Now it's your turn," said York. "Whip it out."

"Okay," Wash said, voice betraying the jaw-crackingly smug smile underneath his helmet. "But I have to warn you, it's kind of awesome."

Wash backed out of the cafeteria bench, and a blue figure in Spartan armor flickered dimly to life on the table. "Hey," it said, "whyja wake me up?" Its helmet turned left and right. "Who're these guys?"

"York, North..." Wash trailed off as if giving a drumroll. "...meet Epsilon."

The AI looked over its shoulder at Wash. "Which one's Epsilon?"

"No, that's you."

"Oh, right."

York and North exchanged a glance.

"Huh," said York.

"Yeah," said North.

"What?" asked Wash, putting his hands on his hips. "This is clearly the best AI fragment they've made yet. I mean look at him."

Epsilon shifted the miniature rifle in his hands, muttering a curse as the magazine fell out.

"Uh..." North trailed off. "How can I put this?"

York looked at North, "He doesn't seem very..."

A small green hologram appeared off York's shoulder. "The AI known as Epsilon does not appear to be operating at optimal cognitive capacity."

"What he said," said York.

"What do you mean?" Wash asked. "He's fine!"

"Oh hey there!" Epsilon said, rising a foot in the air until he was level with Delta. "Man am I glad to see you."

Delta flickered. "Agent York, if you would kindly inform Epsilon that he and I have never met before."

"What he said," answered York.

"Dude, I'm right here. You can tell me yourself." Epsilon waved a hand across Delta's field of view. He turned to Wash, "Can green guy not see me or something?"

"Oh!" said Wash. "There's a rule that you AI aren't allowed to talk to each other directly."

"Well that's dumb," said Epsilon. "What if I need him to do some data processing for me?"

"You can process data yourself," said Wash. "All you guys can."

"No, data processing is his job. I'm the..." Epsilon flickered red for an instant. "What was my deal again?"

"You're going to help Wash run advanced equipment in battle," supplied North.

"Right. Equipment. Yes," said Epsilon. "That stuff."

Wash nudged York in the arm, "Isn't he great?" he said gleefully. "Oh, wait! Epsilon, show them the thing!"

"Which thing?" asked Epsilon. "Weren't there a couple?"

"The thing I asked you about after I came out of that coma."

"Oh! That thing!"

North put a hand on Wash's shoulder, "Maybe you can show us after the two of you've had a chance to uh... Get oriented."

"Yeah, let him wake up a bit," offered York.

"You just haven't seen him in action yet," said Wash, holding up his hands. "You're not going to believe it. This one can—"

"Showing off your toy to the other kids, Washington?" came a voice from the entrance. Agent South pushed the doors out of her way and marched across the cafeteria like it was a battlefield. "I guess you forgot to bring enough for everyone. Why they put Nancy Night-night ahead of me in line I will never know."

"Wash was just introducing us to Epsilon," said North. "You've still got your place in line."

"You mean the line that's not there any more?" She pointed at Epsilon. "That's the last one, North. They won't be making any more."

"Agent South is correct," added Delta. "The Director has decided to discontinue production of AI fragments. It is unlikely she will ever undergo implantation unless an existing agent becomes unfit for duty and their AI is recovered without significant damage."

"Good point, Delta," said South, striding straight into Wash's personal space. "I guess it's not hopeless. All I have to do is poke Sleeping Beauty with a big enough spindle and I'll get an AI after all."

Epsilon looked at Delta. "Does she mean me because I don't think that'd work." His voice dropped. "She's kind of a bitch."

"Sis, I think maybe if you take a closer look at Epsilon, you'll realize that, uh..."

"That the Director made the right decision?" offered York.

"Oh like right figures into this," she said, shoving York on both shoulders. "The implant list is fucking bullshit." She snatched the banana out of Wash's hands and pitched it toward the water cooler.

"Hey!" snapped Wash.

"Well that's rude," muttered Epsilon.

"I've outperformed snoozeboy here a dozen times!"

Epsilon flickered out and reappeared on the table between her and Wash, "Look, lady, I think maybe you're a little—"

"—I've beat his ass in every single mock battle in which he wasn't teamed up with Tex or Carolina. And they give an AI to this fucking bedwetter?"

"Oh and I guess your butt's watertight when you're in a coma," snapped Epsilon.

"So you tell me why banana boy deserves that thing more than I do."

"Hey!" The room flared the color of an electrical storm as blue light veined with red seared across the walls and ceiling. South stumbled back as a blazing mass of frost-gray armored sniper crackled to life two inches from her face.

"I am not a thing!" his voice boomed. "My name is—" he looked at Wash.

"Epsilon."

"—Epsilon! And you will fear my interface!"

There was a hiss and a crackle and South twitched as her chestplate gave off short volley of sparks. Her shoulder twitched.

"What the–?"

"Sis, I think he shorted out your armor battery."

The light guttered and Epsilon returned to standard projection above the tabletop. "...did something happen just now?" he asked. "I feel like I shot lasers out of my face. Did it look cool?"

Wash elbowed York hard in the ribs. "He gets bigger."

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Written for RvB Happy Hour. Originally posted to Tumblr as Darkfrog24.