Red vs Blue and related characters © Rooster Teeth
story © RenaRoo
Divided
Chapter Eleven: Rainforest
"Are we there yet?"
Tucker's grip could not have been tighter on the hilt of his sword if he tried. And he was trying every time he heard Caboose open his mouth. He gritted his teeth.
In the passenger's seat, Caboose was lazily blinking ahead, looking through the window shield to the arid landscape ahead of them. His grip on Freckles was as snug but appreciative as one would expect for a pet dog, which was accurate in its own sense.
Caboose fidgeted. Then, "Hey, Tucker? Are we there yet?"
Turning his head head so fast his helmet audibly clicked against his armor's shoulder piece, Tucker snarled, "Caboose! Does it look like we're at the capital yet?"
In return, the blue space marine looked at Tucker and tilted his head. "Now, Tucker. How am I supposed to know that? I'm not driving!"
"No we're not at the capital yet! Goddamn!" Tucker growled out, turning forward once more, hunching even further over the sword and steering wheel.
For their parts, the Chorus soldiers were fairly reserved in the ship behind them. Palomo was still spinning in circles in his seat. Jensen was on the floor with her equipment, arched over the radio and fiddling with a determined ferocity. Golov was very keenly sorting through the weapons hey had gathered from Crash Site Alpha.
But, still, the tension was fairly apparent. At least to Tucker.
"Hey, uh, Tucker," Caboose began, foot tapping as he petted Freckles. "Are we going to stop soon and... um. Use the bathroom. And get lunch. And maybe take Freckles on a walk at the rest stop because he's been a very good boy on the trip so far, but I don't want him to get cramped up or he'll be up all night when we stop at the motel."
"I told you to go before we started, Caboose!" Tucker growled. "We are not stopping until we get to Armonia."
"Um, I don't know about everyone else," Palomo began, feet dragging against the floor.
"Palomo," Tucker grunted in warning.
The young lieutenant continued, "But I am definitely thirsty and could use a water break."
"Are you being serious right now?" Tucker demanded.
"Well it's not exactly like we've gotten the air conditioner working in this thing!"
"It's an alien cruiser, Palomo," Jensen said, looking up from her radio.
"Yeah, Palomo," Tucker joined in, looking over his shoulder. "It's a fucking alien spaceship. Try being appreciative of the fact that we're going over a hundred miles an hour across this desert and drink from your canteen."
His lieutenant became fidgety, scuffing his boots across the floor as he squirmed. "Well, uh, see. The problem with that would be, you know, I really thought this trip in an awesome spaceship would be... shorter. So I kind of drank all of it? Just a little bit?"
Tucker's eyes flickered over his shoulder before he smacked himself against his helmet. "You knew Crash Site Alpha was on the other side of the fucking planet! Why would you drink all of your canteen before we were even out of the stupid desert!? That's just stupid!"
"I thought that the ship was faster!" Palomo defended, voice reaching higher and higher pitches. "I just think, we can all agree, when someone says they're going to ride an alien ship, they have certain expectations. Like a warp drive."
"You wouldn't use a warp drive on a planet, dipshit! Are you being serious right now!?" Tucker demanded. "Haven't you seen Star Wars?"
"I personally would think Star Trek would be more appropriate to this discussion," Jensen slurred from the back.
"Oh my god, everyone is so nerdy right now it's suffocating," Tucker growled.
"Yeah, uh,Tucker," Caboose spoke up, twirling in his seat by that point. "I think that Lieutenant Palmetto isn't completely wrong. I mean. Maybe he's not the only one out of water? Or thinks that you're a cranky driver and should pull over and let us stretch and use the bathroom and get water and get food and-"
At the very mention of food, an inhumanely loud growl came from the back, causing all to turn and face the small lieutenant.
Jensen fidgeted. "Um. Not all of us were carrying the same supplies. Some of us didn't get water or food because the girl utility belts are too small."
"Wow that's so sexist!" Palomo exclaimed.
"I know, right?" Jensen responded, shifting closer to lean in to her fellow New. "And I think the armor plating on our arms is skinnier. Like really skinnier!"
"You know, now that you mention it, I totally see that," Palomo responded, hand thoughtfully on his chin.
Golov scoffed. "In Federal Army, men and women have equal armor protection."
"Whatever, Golov," Jensen snapped.
"Wait, everyone shut up!" Tucker responded, grabbing the "children's" attention once more. "Jensen, are you telling me that you are just like Caboose and Palomo and also don't have any water or food with you and we've only been traveling for, like, three hours!?"
Everyone grew quiet.
"I wouldn't say just like them exactly," she muttered.
"Yeah, Captain Tucker," Palomo piped up, "she's got less supplies because she's carrying the burden of an objectively broken system of segregation between genders that really doesn't make sense in this time in the relative future."
"Oh, that's terrible," Caboose said with a visible frown.
Feeling a headache coming up, Tucker gritted his teeth. "Palomo?"
"Yessir?"
Tucker glared back at the lieutenant, "Shut the fuck up."
"Oh, okay."
The aqua space marine looked instead to Golov, his last saving grace on this away mission. "Give me some good news, Golov," Tucker moaned. "You've got water, right?"
"Of course," Golov sniffed. "But I am not sharing."
"Oh, please," Tucker snorted. "You'll share if I tell you to."
"No, I mean," he squirmed, eying the News. "I have only one canteen left. It won't be but a drink for everyone. Oh!" He turned more directly to Tucker. "Sir, yours and mine together might be enough for the rest of the day."
"Oh, yeah!" Palomo cheered, looking excitedly to Tucker.
Caboose blinked owlishly at Tucker. "Tucker, can I drink from your can-can?"
Suddenly, Tucker's own throat felt impeccably dry. He glanced down to the canteen by his waste, shifting just enough to feel how much of the contents splashed back against his hip. Hardly a swig.
He gripped tighter to the steering wheel. "Fine," he grumped. "One stop before Armonia - as soon as we get to that forest cover at the end of this desert," he said with a nod toward the window.
Everyone settled back without asking anything more about the water supply. Tucker breathed with relief.
Like most of Chorus, the landscape was dry and the distance vast, but unlike the long desert they had escaped the forested area had cover. It just didn't have much wildlife.
"Most of the animals on Chorus were brought with the first settlers when the planet was terraformed," Jensen read off like a text book. "When the civil war started, both sides used crop yield and livestock as chips to play with."
"That's fucked up," Tucker said, examining the seemingly bare forest beyond the ship.
"Of course, didn't help that rebels started attacking government farms before and cut supplies to begin with," Golov returned, a pointed look directed at the tiny lieutenants.
"Or, y'know, that the government rationed supplies so much during the great war that people were literally dying of starvation," Palomo hissed in return.
"Or, that no one gave me anything to be angry about!" Caboose chipped in.
Rubbing at his temples, Tucker groaned. "Okay, Jesus, enough already. Everything sucked on this planet and everyone fucked over each other. Welcome to real life. Let's not forget the whole evil corporation and violent mercenaries that have been stringing along both of your sides this whole time, assholes."
The soldiers silenced, but the tension didn't so much as budge.
Tucker sighed, waving to them. "Okay, fine, be that way. I really don't care. But we need to spread out and find water and - if we can find it - food. And I'm counting on you guys for that because, newsflash, Caboose and I aren't from around here. We don't know shit about your planet."
"But I suspect it's smelly," Caboose commented.
"Can we break up and just agree to disagree here? Get along until later?" Tucker begged.
The three soldiers at first didn't seem to be moving, but Palomo turned to Jensen and nodded toward the left. "C'mon, Jensen."
The two left, Golov hesitating just a moment longer before heading right.
Waiting until the three were out of earshot, Tucker turned to Caboose and threw up his hands. "Goddamn, dude. How are we supposed to take on anyone if everyone hates each other this badly?"
"Maybe we could make a campfire and sing kumbaya?" the Blue suggested.
Tucker stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. He pressed forward. "C'mon, Caboose. Let's try to find some water."
"Oh, good!" Caboose exclaimed before quickly falling in line behind Tucker. "I'm glad. Freckles is very thirsty."
"Dude, your gun isn't- oh, wait!" Tucker exclaimed, turning to face Caboose and the assault rifle. "Freckles! Just to be safe, do the thermal scan! Uh... please?"
There was a mechanical cracking before the AI responded, "Thermal Scan initialized... Beginning..."
Caboose and Tucker watched the gun curiously before there was another crack.
"Scan failure. Interference."
"What, seriously?" Tucker groaned. "What good are you?"
"Freckles is lots of good thank you very much!" Caboose snapped.
"Until he tells me whether or not we're followed by pirates, dude, he's useless," Tucker responded in kind.
"Captain! Captain!"
"Ugh, now what?" Tucker sighed. "Caboose, head back to the ship but don't touch anything. I'll go see what Golov is yelling about."
"Only under protest!" Caboose howled before turning and racing back to the ship.
Tucker released a long breath and shook his head before heading toward the calls of the Federal soldier.
It didn't take long to figure out what Golov was yelling about as Tucker could hear the sound of water as he approached. Sure enough, Tucker came across the soldier by the water's edge, red stained armor on save for his helmet as the man drank from the fresh spring.
"Holy crap, you actually found water! Good job, Golov!" Tucker exclaimed. "Who woulda guessed the landscape would be so different right next to a desert."
"I would say it means a storm is coming this way," Golov responded, looking toward the near mountain range.
Tucker blinked. "What makes you say that?"
Golov pointed to the mountain. "The desert is dry because clouds are stopped by the altitude of the mountains, yeah? This spring is small, new. I think there is a storm on the other side of these mountains. It might not make it this far but..." He looked to the forest around them. "There must be rain that makes it this far sometimes."
"Ugh, I hate storms," Tucker groaned. "Caboose always freaks out and hides under the couch."
The federal soldier didn't respond, instead looking to the red stains on his armor. Tucker felt his stomach flip.
"Listen, Golov," Tucker said, walking up to him, "Let me get Jensen and Palomo to fill up their canteens first and then Caboose and I'll help you clean your armor. I don't want to get into details, but we're really acers at cleaning shit off armors by now."
He turned and blinked at Tucker. "You... have seen many battles."
Tucker awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, thinking of the black shit from Blood Gulch. "Well, not exactly. I mean we have, but it's not what you think. Uh, like I said, soldier, no details."
"Very well, but I shall go to the ship while the rebels are here," Golov huffed, roughly returning his helmet to its place.
Tucker frowned. "Hey, there aren't rebels anymore. There's only Chorus."
"For now," Golov responded before turning toward the ship.
"TUCKER!" Caboose's bellow could be heard from the ship.
Tucker groaned and rubbed at his face. "What now!?" He looked to Golov. "C'mon, let's see what he wants."
It didn't take long to see that Jensen and Palomo had also come to aid Caboose's calls, but the blue space marine looked far from distressed even as they all came. He was just standing outside of the ship - the ship that Tucker was just noticing lacked both an open door and a glow.
"Caboose!" Tucker growled. "What the fuck did you do to my ship?"
"It's being mean and wont' let me in!" Caboose responded immediately.
"Maybe it automatically turned off with the key gone for so long?" Jensen suggested.
"It's not a key, it's a motherfucking sword," Tucker corrected automatically, brandishing his sword. "Okay, baby, open sesame!"
The five stood in wait. The ship did not respond.
"Huh," Palomo said, tilting his head. "Maybe you need to hit it again?"
Tucker looked to his sword before smacking it against the hull.
The ship sputtered and collapsed in on itself.
"What a piece of junk," Palomo whistled.
"PALOMO!" Tucker growled, waving his sword toward the Lieutenant, making Palomo leap back.
"So..." Caboose began slowly, "we're... stuck out here?"
Golov rubbed at his helmet. "Fantastic."
"At least we're four hundred and ninety-two miles closer than we were," Jensen attempted with a small shrug.
They stood quietly, Tucker's mind racing, attempting desperately to think a way out of their situation. They still had no radio contact, they still didn't know anything about the rest of the army, they still didn't know if they were being closed in on-
"Oh, maybe this'll give us time to check out that alien temple Jensen and I just found," Palomo chirped.
Tucker rounded on the New Republic soldiers. "What alien temple!? Why didn't you tell me about this?"
"Um... we're telling you now?" Jensen tried uneasily.
Tucker took a deep breath and then looked seriously to the two. "Show me."
"And then we're making a campfire!" Caboose screamed in euphoria.