Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth, not me. I make no profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Eight: Raves and Ruses
The months passed mostly uneventfully in Blood Gulch. Sven didn't ever stay long at one time; he was mostly there to bring supplies. He would drop in once a month or so and mostly ignore York and North, preferring to spend as much time as possible with Sister. The girl showed the freelancers the computer down in the caves and they were able to get it online and reprogrammed so that York could monitor transmissions in the area without being noticed. They had to earn their keep with the Innies, after all. North and Sister grew especially close, and York was glad that his friend had found someone to fill the painful gap that South had left.
Since Sarge was technically AWOL he wasn't getting supplies sent to him, so once in a while he would call a "truce" for a day and trade Sister some sort of supplies, usually useless old warthog parts, for food rations. Despite continually complaining that old people were gross, Sister clearly felt obligated to prevent the man from starving to death. Meanwhile, York and North would stand by out of sight with sniper rifles in case Sarge or Lopez tried anything funny. Sarge still had no idea they were there; once in a while they would capture Lopez when they found him spying on them and reset his memory banks so that he would forget about them.
So it was that one day, about a year into their stay in Blood Gulch, York was monitoring the radio and North was on lookout duty while Sister was sleeping in after another of her impromptu "raves" that only consisted of the three of them listening to loud music and dancing around like idiots. Why Sven kept bringing Sister glow sticks, they didn't know. York reflected on this in his mildly hungover state. He'd met Carolina at a club; she was an excellent dancer. Their little dance nights here in Blood Gulch were fun, but inevitably led to York having a rough stroll down memory lane the next day. It was good the others were occupied; he was best left alone on days like these. Today's reminiscence was cut short though, when a readout popped up on the screen in front of him showing a small ship landing near the edge of the canyon.
"North! North get down to the caves right now. A vehicle just landed that isn't Sven – UNSC markings. We need to hide," York called over his radio hurriedly.
"I saw it land. I'm on my way; let me just make sure Sister's actually awake and wearing her armor," North replied calmly.
"Make it fast." said York. He heard Sister moaning about waking up so early in the background while North's radio was still on, and heard North telling her what was going on.
"Alright, I'm on my way down. She's at least partially awake. It'll have to do. At least I already made coffee this morning; that should help."
"Man, I'm usually the one making light of the situation, North. This canyon's rubbing off on you," York tried to tease, but he was worried. On the bright side, it was only one vehicle so they should be able to deal with that few of people if necessary. On the other hand, if whoever it was figured out that Sister's military ID was a fake, and the freelancers were forced to kill him...their "safe house", as CT had called it originally, would be a bust and they would be on the run again. The two men waited, watching the surveillance screens for whoever had found their base to appear.
"Holy crap! It's Wash!" York cried.
"Are you sure?" North leaned in closer to the screen. "Hey does this thing get audio?"
"Hang on, I had it working the other day. Aha! Ow!" York bumped his head and he came back up from under the console, and North stifled a chuckle. They both leaned in to watch the surveillance.
Agent Washington trekked down into the canyon toward the base designated Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, keeping a close eye out for any movement. There was none. In fact, it was almost eerily silent. At least there weren't bodies littering the ground around him, like on many of his previous recovery missions.
"Hello? Hello!" He called out. "Anybody here?" No answer. Wash sighed and turned on his radio. "Recovery One calling Command. Come in Command."
"Go ahead Recovery One; we have you."Stacy's voice crackled back.
"I am at Outpost Alpha – looks deserted," Maybe his job would be easy today.
"Roger that. See if you can find any evidence that would suggest where they all might –
"HEY! A-hole! What's with all the noise?! People are trying to sleep here!" the loud voice startled Wash, and effectively cut off his conversation with Command.
"Umm...scratch that command. It appears that I've found someone. Recovery One out." He clicked off the radio as the yellow armored soldier in front of him walked toward him and groaned.
"Ugh...oh, man..."
"Hi. I'm Agent Washington. This is Blue Base, correct?" Wash said, trying to sound friendly.
"It was." said the girl indignantly.
"Was?" Wash raised his eyebrows.
"Everybody's gone. Transferred. Something about this base being obsolete now..." The statement came across as a mix between annoyance and apathy.
"Right...where did they go?" Wash asked, losing patience already.
"I don't know, all different places. Nobody told me anything!" Sister practically shouted.
"Well, I'm trying to locate some people who have experience with the Freelancer Program." Wash tried to explain.
"Freelancer? Is that the band we had here last night?" the girl tilted her head sideways like a curious puppy might.
"You had a party here?" Wash was incredulous now.
"Yeah! I throw raves here every night – charge five bucks a head. Last night, I made ten bucks. Ooo ooo! Nice."
Wash winced at her sound effects and wondered if she charged herself five dollars to get into her party, and who the other five had come from.
"You use the base for raves? That doesn't seem like the proper use for official resources," Wash said skeptically.
"What are you, like a cop or something?" Sister asked suspiciously.
"No," Wash sounded immensely offended.
"Cause if you are, and I ask you, you have to tell me. That's totally a law or something," She sounded thoroughly pleased with herself now.
"I'm not the police, and that's not a real law," Wash was unimpressed.
"Well if you're not a cop, then how do you know its not a real law?" Sister demanded. "Busted!"
"You caught me," Wash sighed. "Hey, is there anybody...else...smart...here that I can talk to?" he asked hopefully.
"Yeah, right, like I'm gonna tell you. I don't rat people out, COP!" Wash winced. Her voice was really grating.
"Okay, I'm gonna leave now. Good luck with your empty base and your raging insanity," and people called him insane? Yeah right.
"Yeah? Whatever! Good luck with being a cop, COP!" Sister shouted after him. She smirked inside her helmet and waited until he was walking over the hill toward red base before ducking behind cover and making her way as quickly as she could to her team down in the caves. York and North were literally rolling on the ground laughing when she reached them.
"Oh my gosh, I can't believe he was talking about proper use of official resources!" York howled.
"Good ole Wash," North grinned.
"Sister, that was amazing! You are a great actress!" York said.
"Well, the Insurrectionists did let her infiltrate a UNSC base as a spy when she was only seventeen. She fooled her own brother. Did you really think she wouldn't be able to fool Wash?" North laughed.
"That's a good point. Wash was always a pretty gullible kid. Remember the thing with the jet packs?" York and North burst out in laughter anew.
"He said he was going over to Red base next. This should be good," Sister said, rearranging the camera angles on the computer as the men pulled themselves together. "I know Sarge has probably got some new booby traps installed by now. Hopefully they work better than the last ones. I'm gonna go mess with them some more," Sister grinned and sprinted off toward the cave exit that came out near red base, while York and North tried to compose themselves enough to gather some sort of useful information from their surveillance.
"Come in command," Wash grumbled.
"Hello Washington," came Stacy's bored voice. "We have you. How was the investigation at Blue Base?"
"Enlightening. Going to try Red Base now. I'm hoping things are going to be a little more...normal," All Wash's hopes were dashed as a cardboard cut-out of a pink soldier sprung up before him and a recording began playing.
"Halt! In the name of the red, I mean uh, lightish red army! This base is operating at full capacity, and if you come in here, you're gonna get into a big, uh, slap fight! Don't come any further, ooo la la!"
Wash sighed. What would his Freelancer friends say if they could see him now? Surely he would be the shame of his team for being given an assignment such as this.
"I'm gonna have to call you back," Wash said dully into his radio. He trudged forward toward red base, only to have another cut-out, this one of a maroon soldier, pop out from behind a rock.
"This is your last warning! Stay out! I love math! Your only hope of survival is to kiss my commander's ass!"
"What...the...," Wash stepped around the cutout, shaking his head in disbelief. A third cut-out, an orange one, popped out. It was full of bullet holes.
"And here's another warning! I know the other was supposed to be the last, but I never listen to orders, cause I'm too lazy and stupid!" Wash walked right past this one without stopping. "And ugly. Did I mention ugly?"
"This is gonna be a waste of time, I can tell already," Wash said to himself as he looked at what was in front of him. Another red armored soldier popped up in front of him with a yell.
"Agh! Freeze intruder! Stop your intrudin' right there!" said the red.
"Who made these things?" Wash asked.
"I did!" the red soldier replied.
"Wait, you're real?" Wash asked to red soldier. Better to humor the man into thinking his trick had worked. A happy crazy person was probably easier to deal with.
"Of course I am! You fell for a classic misdirection!" Sarge said happily. "I've still got it, heh heh."
"Esta todo bien aqui?" Came a robotic Spanish voice.
"We're fine Lopez. Just caught myself a dirty blue. How many does that make this week?"
"Uno," the Latino robot replied.
"Yahtzee. We're on a hot streak."
"Uh, I'm not actually a Blue," Wash said, slightly concerned that this man would actually shoot first and ask questions never. "I'm from Command."
"Command? No kiddin'," Sarge lowered his shotgun and Wash relaxed...a little.
"I was hoping you could tell me about the soldiers transferred out of this outpost."
"You mean Grif and Simmons? Those traitors," Sarge growled. "I told 'em not to go! The battle here isn't even over yet!"
"Umm...It looks over to me," Wash said.
"Not while there's a single Blue left in this canyon! Which there is – a single Blue," Sarge pointed out. "Victory, or death."
"I see..." Wash did not see.
"That's why I refused my relocation orders. Obviously Command wasn't thinking clearly."
"So...you're AWOL then," Wash said slowly.
"I, uh...A-what?" Wash wasn't certain if the red was pretending not to understand, or if he actually didn't.
"DON'T TELL HIM ANYTHING UNTIL YOU TALK TO A LAWYER!" Sister shouted from the hill nearby, "YOU HAVE RIGHTS!"
"I'M NOT A COP!" Wash shouted back at her, exasperated.
"HEY! BEAT IT YOU LITTLE TRAMP!" Sarge added. "You see why I can't go?" he demanded of Wash.
"Why not just attack her and win then? It would take about ten seconds." Wash asked, confused.
"You're old and I hate you!" Came Sister's shouts.
"That's the problem. I can't attack a girl. So we're locked, in an epic stalemate."
"You're kidding me," This guy was even crazier than the yellow chick.
"Plus, she's cooking something up, and I gotta be ready! I hear her running training ops every night! I see them out there with their glow sticks and their tribal drum beats – boomchicka oomchicka oomchicka oomchicka...," Sarge stared off into the distance, and Wash could just imagine the suspicious look on his face under the helmet.
"Well. This has been really – informative. But I need to find someone with experience with Artificial Intelligence," Wash said. "Maybe some actual intelligence too," he thought.
"Huh? Oh, right," Sarge said, coming back to the conversation at hand. "You want Caboose then. He got infected for a little while I think."
"Great. Caboose. Do you know where he is?"
"Of course! We intercepted the Blue's orders. We got it right here. Lopez!" he called.
"Si?"
"Get this guy the Blue's relocation orders."
"Si."
Sarge turned back to Wash. "He probably converted them to Spanish...," he began apologetically. "so they might be a little hard to understand."
"Yeah. They wouldn't be the first thing today."
"SHUT UP, COP!" came Sister's voice again. This was the most fun she'd had in ages. She frowned as she headed back down the hill though. That guy was a Freelancer, like York and North.
C.T. still had his doubts about her friends after all these months. At least he had last time Sven had talked to him. They hadn't heard from him in a little while now. She assumed her orders were still as they always were – if they act suspicious in any way, shoot first, ask questions later. She trusted York and North though...As long as they didn't make contact with this guy it should be fine...right?
"I guess I'll just have to wait and see what they do," she muttered to herself.
