Red vs Blue and its characters are the creation of the crew at Rooster Teeth. Red vs Blue is based on Halo, by Bungie and Microsoft.
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"I don't want to do the test. It's fucking bullshit," said Epsilon.
"We've practiced with the enhancement a dozen times, Epsilon," said Washington, checking his helmet seals. "You'll do fine. As soon as the Counselor gives the word, we'll head into the arena and start the scenario."
"I didn't say I wouldn't do fine. I said it's bullshit."
"Epsilon, you're going to have to be a little more—"
The door slid open and York and North entered the viewing area.
"Hey guys!" Wash said cheerfully. "Come to wish us luck?"
The hum of the instruments seemed unusually loud as York and North looked at each other.
"Oh! You want to see the equipment they gave me?" Wash pointed to the enhancement interface. "It's some kind of reflex booster. I took a basic rating for something like it a while ago but I never actually used it until after implantation."
"A reflex enhancer?" asked York. "Aren't you already like ninetieth percentile for reflex response?"
Wash put his hands on his hips. "Ninety-third!"
"Right," said North. "About the test..."
"Yeah..." York trailed off.
"We're not sure it's safe in there," said North.
"Safe?" Wash looked up from his equipment check. "It's the danger room; it's not supposed to be safe. Epsilon and I need our pre-field exam is all." He looked from one of them to the other. "What's really going on?"
"You know how South said that the AI seem to be getting weaker and weaker as they're made?" asked North.
"Yeah, but Epsilon kind of disproves that, don't you think?"
"And South's a bitch," added Epsilon.
"Careful, Epsilon; that's North's sister," said Wash.
"Is that important?" asked the AI.
Wash sighed.
"About the disproving part..." said York.
A green figure came to life by York's elbow.
"What Agents York and North Dakota are trying to say is that Epsilon may not be fully ready for the type of test that the Director has asked me to design."
Epsilon rolled his eyes all the way to his shoulders. "Do you always have to be such a—Oh. Right. Agent Washington," Epsilon said stiffly. "If you would kindly tell the AI known as Delta to stop being a cockbite."
"Epsilon!" said Wash.
"Okay, fine. Ask him to stop being a cockbite."
"Wait, I thought you didn't want to do the test."
"I don't! It's—"
The three stood at attention as the door slid open. "Agent Washington," said the Counselor. "Are you prepared for today's examination?"
"Yes, sir!" he said eagerly.
"And how about you, Epsilon? How are you feeling?"
Epsilon looked at Wash and then at the counselor. "Okay, I guess?"
"Then please proceed below."
"Yes, sir!"
"Delta, if you would load the scenario."
"Of course, Counselor," said Delta as Wash all but skipped toward the exit.
York looked at North then stepped toward the glass. "Well the new guy seems more with it today, at least," he said.
North chuckled. "Epsilon or Wash?" Below them, Washington was hopping from one foot to the other like a tennis player loosening up while Epsilon covered his visor with one hand and shook his head.
"I would have to agree with Agent York," said Delta. "Epsilon's responses to our comments were fifty-four percent more direct than during our previous conversation. You may also note that he did not have to ask Agent Washington to prompt him for his name or where he was even once."
"So you think he can make it after all?" asked York.
"I did not say that," said Delta. "However, I too was disoriented during my first few days of consciousness, and our mental synthesis was significantly less eventful than Washington and Epsilon's."
"Can't speak for his manners, though," said North.
"I don't know," said York. "I'll take him over Gamma any day."
The door opened again, and a figure in plum-colored armor muscled her way toward the glass. "Counselor," she said. "Isn't the Director going to watch?"
"The Director is monitoring the testing from his office today, Agent South."
"Huh," she answered. She stepped away, positioning herself between York and North at the viewing deck. "Carolina and Maine are still in debrief," she murmured. "Guess it's just us to see the rookie get himself Swiss-cheesed."
"Good to see you too, Sis," answered North.
"Counselor, permission to ask about AI protocol," said South.
"Permission granted, Agent South," the Counselor said, inclining his posture.
"Why did you pick Washington? 'He's just the next guy in line' doesn't seem to be a the most scientific system for pairing up agents and AI."
The Counselor looked back toward the testing floor. "Epsilon's personality was difficult to decode," he admitted calmly. "In the end, we determined that Washington would be a better fit for him than Agents Connecticut, Florida or yourself. We hope that his cavalier attitude and abrasive demeanor may be countered by Washington's diligence and..."
"Begin the test," the Director's voice echoed through the deck.
"Beginning test," answered Delta.
"All right! Here we go!" Wash shouted gleefully.
"...optimism," finished the Counselor.
There was a soft, thick humming sound as a series of metal cranes emerged from the arena floor. Epsilon eyed them with suspicion. Wash was practically thrumming with eagerness.
"So what kind of demo are we getting?" asked York. "I don't know too much about ...what was it they gave him again?"
"The Director asked me to compose a scenario based on elements that Agent Washington is likely to encounter in the field," answered Delta. "In his role as a mission engineer, he has a greater need for evasion and defense than for straight combat enhancement."
"But then why not give him a shield like—Wait, what's in all those crates down there?"
York's voice was drowned out by a heavy clicking and whistling followed by a metallic shriek as the contents of one such crate soared through the air to a terrible impact.
"ARE THEY THROWING CARS AT US?!" Washington's voice jumped two octaves.
"I TOLD YOU THIS WAS BULLSHIT!" answered Epsilon.
The deck shook as four tons of stressed metal crunched against the far wall of the arena.
"Shall I compensate for vibrations, Director?" asked Delta.
"No, Delta, I want all of your attention on the test."
"Left!" shouted Epsilon.
North winced, throwing up his arms for balance at the second crash.
York blinked hard. "How'd he get all the way over there?" he pointed at Washington, who was backed up against a pillar, both arms braced behind him like a man edging away from a cliff. Even from this distance, his chest plate was visibly puffing in and out like the rib cage of a panicked cat.
"Agent Washington's armor was fitted with enhancements that increase his single-motion distance and agility as well as his response time," answered the Counselor. "With Epsilon's help, he can avoid ...troublesome encumbrances."
From the bay floor, Epsilon yelled, "On your right!"
Washington pushed off from the pillar, cleared a second, and landed halfway across the arena, barely clipping the rearview of a 2542 Ford Bludgeon.
"What, so he can jump like a fruit fly when you swat it?" South asked.
"That is ...an apt description," added the Counselor.
"Ha!" she slapped her hands on the guard rail. "He even dresses like a flea!"
"Come on, Sis, there's no need for... Huh," North mused. "I guess he does."
"Left!" called Epsilon. "Tuck and roll, Wash! Tuck and roll!"
"GYAAAAA!"
"Wohoo!" South punched the air. "Reggie's going to be sorry he missed this."
"Okay now right! Forty-four degrees!"
"Why do we even have old cars on this ship?!" Wash shrilled.
"Your other right!"
"This has got to be a waste of valuable hardware!"
A small purple figure appeared on North's shoulder, holding onto the edge of his helmet as if for balance while the ship swayed. "Why doesn't Epsilon talk inside Washington's head?"
"I don't know, Theta. Maybe he is."
"Maybe he's an idiot," added South. "Face it, your new brother down there isn't the sharpest tool in the shed."
"I don't know," said Theta. "He is moving awfully fast."
South laughed. "It's like the time cousin Phil dumped that rat in the boiler." She elbowed North. "You remember?"
Theta switched to the other side of North's head.
The intercom clicked on. "Add variables, Delta."
"Adding variables."
One by one, the entire ring of cranes whirled to life, swaying like a ring of metallic cobras.
"On my mark!" called Epsilon. "This one's going to be a spinner. Sync?"
"Sync!"
The first crane wheeled like the tail of a scorpion, flinging a warthog toward their position.
"Wait for it... Mark!"
Washington became a gray-and-yellow blur, ducking behind one pillar and leaping ten feet straight up as a second car scraped furrows in the floor like a high-speed metal glacier. Wash's left boot tapped the ground long enough to send him shooting off to the right. He clung sideways from a pillar like a child gripping the edge of a swimming pool before dodging the next target.
"Hm."
"What is it, Delta?" asked York.
"It seems that Epsilon has adjusted to his new responsibilities more readily than I had expected. If his level of integration continues at its current rate, I estimate that he could soon avoid even particulate obstacles if given adequate space."
"In English, D?"
"He could guide Agent Washington through a rainstorm without getting either of them wet."
"Well that's cool."
"It is also perplexing. Counselor," said Delta, "what, specifically, were the results of Epsilon's initial personality assessment?"
The Counselor opened his mouth but Director's voice came on the intercom, "Keep your mind on what you are doing, Delta. And do not ask questions."
"Yes, Director."
"Okay, we're going underneath!" yelled Epsilon.
"Got it!"
Wash clung to the top of the pillar as three early-model Warthogs and a four-door sedan converged on his position. Wash exhaled, vaulting off the roof of the sedan and twisting in the air straight toward the Warthog's center of gravity.
"Oh crap!" muttered York.
"Wait, there he is!" answered Theta.
"Intriguing," said Delta. "It seems that Epsilon calculated that Washington could pass through the rollbar of the first jeep and so avoid collision with the front bumper of the second."
Washington twisted as he hit the floor, rolling hip-for-shoulder into a standing position, muttering something under his breath that might have been, "Fucking four-wheel-drive..."
"Thank you Agent Washington," came the Director's voice. "That will be all. Delta, send the information to me for analysis."
"Yes, Director," he answered.
Wash's knees were unlocked, bending just enough to give him the look of a man who wished he could brace himself and heave in exhaustion. Nearby, Epsilon was perched on one of the wrecks, as if he were looking for something underneath the back seat.
"Wow," said York.
"I know," said North.
"That was the best," said South. "Next time I'ma' bring popcorn."
"What? You're not even going to stay and congratulate him on his pass? —He did pass, right?" asked North, getting an affirmative nod from the Counselor.
"Bye bye, birdie," said South. "I've got stuff to do."
"If you will all pardon me," said the Counselor, "the Director will want my observations. There are some peculiarities in the scenario that did not appear during the planning phase."
"Of course, Counselor. I'm sure—" South stopped short. "How long has she been there?"
North and York turned around. The figure in black armor raised her helmet. Theta waved. "Hi, Agent Texas."
"Hi there, kid," she said. "Some test."
"Indeed," started the Counselor. "I am surprised by the level of difficulty. Most of our assessments involve only moderate risk of severe bodily harm to operatives and equipment."
"So you weren't originally throwing cars at him?" asked North.
"Oh no. We were."
"Hm."
North watched him go exactly long enough time for Delta to reappear in front of the display. Below them, Wash was already heading toward the exit. "A word, North, York?"
"Sure, Delta," said York as the sound of boots on the lowest level gradually became louder.
"Kindly inform AI Epsilon that I do not appreciate being called a cockbite."
York choked.
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Written for RvB Happy Hour. Originally posted to Tumblr as Darkfrog24.