Red vs Blue and related characters © Rooster Teeth
story © RenaRoo
Divided
Chapter Twenty-One: Offensive
For the most part, Simmons didn't mind being given tasks by someone in charge. He practically lived for that sort of attention, really, but there didn't feel like anything particularly great about the task Kimball had just handed him.
Especially not after the freak out Epsilon had just given Carolina... or how she had then promptly given all of them a taste of that freak out on her own terms.
Still, he was nothing if not dutiful.
As the various men and women of Chorus seemed to close their ranks for what Simmons could only assume was their imminent departure, he approached the line of trees where their Freelancer was pacing.
Her eyes were darting back and forth still, and even from a distance Simmons could tell she was hot with anger, but he wasn't sure how to take any of that.
It just made him want to turn tail.
"Hey, uh, Carolina!" he called out, half wishing just to give her warning so as to not receive a boot to the face.
She halted, hands still in trembling fists as he approached. Her green eyes almost seemed electric as she looked at him.
"What, Simmons?" she growled.
"Yeah, uh, Kimball sent me," he explained, hands beginning to wring themselves so as to not move with his words. "I'm supposed to tell you. Gee. Uh. You seem a little angry."
"I'm not angry," she snapped. "I'm completely in control of myself. I'm utterly fine. I'm the peak of emotional clarity and I could definitely take someone else's emotions right now and think through them."
Simmons blinked. "Yeah. About that. How is Church?"
"Not with me," she replied shortly. "Epsilon seems to believe I can't handle whatever he's going through."
A little surprised, Simmons tilted his head. "Wow, really? That... sounds like he's concerned. That... doesn't sound like Church at all. But okay."
"It sounds exactly like him!" Carolina growled, throwing her hands to the air. "Always cutting me out, trying to protect me from some big secret. Maybe you just don't know Epsilon."
Taken aback, Simmons just raised his hands to his chest and heaved a little worried laugh. "Maybe? Fuck if I know. But I do know that whatever's going down with you two is probably pretty big. Which is why I know you don't want to hear what I'm about to say right now."
Carolina's eyes narrowed. "What did Kimball send you to say?" she asked thinly.
"What?" Simmons asked back, feeling a cold sweat build on the back of his neck. "Kimball. Oh. Right. Kimball. Yeah, man. What Kimball sent me to say. Well, interestingly enough it kind of has a lot to do with this current situation."
"For the love of god, out with it, Simmons!" the aqua Freelancer roared.
"We're heading out toward he capital and Kimball says that we're not detouring to pick up anyone else until we get back and that's final," he spat out as fast as he could. Simmons flinched back at the trembling anger projecting from Carolina and couldn't help but begin to cover his face. "Ah! I'm sorry I'm just the messenger!"
"What does she mean 'pick up anyone else'?" Carolina demanded.
"Specifically, well... Reds and Blues," Simmons continued, hands wringing once more.
With a growl, Carolina punched the nearby tree, making the bark shatter around impact. "But going out of our way to help this planet is all we've done since we got here!"
Simmons blinked in surprise. "See! That's what I said! But... she was pretty clear that it wasn't a risk they could afford anymore." He dropped his shoulders slightly. "And... I guess to be fair... it wasn't like us helping them came about from purely good will anyway. I mean. When they - or, I guess, Felix - first approached us, we kind of told them no for the same reasons."
Carolina just stared a him before shaking her head and walking past him, grabbing her helmet on the nearby stump. "It just isn't right. Not after everything," she said before moving past him.
Feeling rather deflated himself, Simmons lowered his head and sighed. "Yeah. I didn't think so either."
...
Still rather breathless after the conversation with Carolina, Simmons begun to drag himself back to the part of their temporary encampment where the others had gathered when a tan-and-orange lieutenant caught his eye.
Bitters was standing off alone, hand on his head as he was muttering under his breath. It was suspicious to say the least.
Approaching, Simmons cocked his head to the side. "Uh. Bitters?" he asked.
The lieutenant looked to Simmons, seemingly surprised by his presence, and dropped his hand back by his side. There was a tightness to his posture that made the Red uncomfortable.
"What're you doing over here? Why aren't you getting ready for the march with the others?" Simmons asked, looking to the not so distant gathering of Fed soldiers.
"Oh, you know," Bitters drawled out, following the captain's gaze. "Calculating the odds. Trying to think of a reasonable way out."
"What? From another pirate attack?" Simmons continued, still confused.
"No," Bitters snorted. "From the inevitable turn of the Fed Army on us."
Caught off guard, Simmons looked critically at Bitters. "What are you talking about, Bitters?" he asked. "Nobody's turning on anyone. You guys aren't at war anymore."
"Yeah, tell that to the guys about to start a coupe on Kimball," Bitters replied back. "They're not exactly a bunch of happy campers right now, and they're mad at Kimball for driving them into the ground with this assault, and now she's ordering a march with no breaks?"
Simmons felt a little ill at the notion. "Did she really say 'no breaks'?" he asked.
"Look at that crowd," Bitters said, really drawing Simmons' attention to tension and the low murmurs throughout the troops. "What do you think?"
Dropping his head with a sigh, Simmons muttered, "Dammit."
Bitters just stared at him cautiously as he walked over to the Fed soldiers.
Being one of Chorus' acclaimed "war heroes" came with its advantages, and really it wasn't too long after he just approached the soldiers that attention began to overwhelmingly shift focus back on him. It made a wave of nausea punch him so hard in the gut he almost turned back to run.
But tensions weren't going to be getting much better if he did a stunt like that. Instead, he swallowed down the feelings and instead held up his hands a bit.
"Hey, uh," he started, feeling his tongue grow thicker in his mouth. "I know not everyone's all that happy with the recent orders-"
"They fucking suck!" someone yelled from the back.
"Y-yeah, okay. That's a thought," Simmons acknowledged. "But we really need to cool our jets and take a breath here. I mean. We are in the middle of nowhere with people trying to kill us. Maybe heading for civilization as fast as we can isn't the worst plan there is! In fact, it might even be a pretty great plan! We could regroup. Get some food. Take showers-"
"Kimball just got three more soldiers killed!" a soldier in the front snarled, stepping up to Simmons. "And now she wants to march us like dogs? Treat us like the damn pirates she's been dropping!?"
"We don't even have anything to show for coming here!" another shouted. "What's the point of anything!? How are we supposed to survive like this?"
Simmons wished he could crawl into a shell.
"Look, you're all bringing up good points," he stated clearly. "But you're forgetting that it's a war. And I mean. It is a war! I'm not saying casualties are just acceptable. God no. Especially not for us. I mean, just by living we're standing up for something. But. The fact is, there are people trying to kill us. And not every decision we make is going to be free of consequence. Some worse than others. Kimball's leading us home. And as angry and upset as you might be with her, that's what all of us want, isn't it? To go home?"
For a moment, calm stilled the masses. Bu it wasn't peaceful. There was still something fester, some deep seated aggression that Simmons was only beginning to understand as he stood before them all.
"I'm afraid they do have a point, Simmons."
The maroon armored soldier joined everyone in turning to face General Kimball herself as she approached from the woods. Immediately, the captain felt ready to jump out of his skin at the sight of her, but he also couldn't help but notice the overwhelming calm in her stride. She stopped before him and the Federal soldiers with a cool collection about her.
"I am a wartime leader," she addressed them severely. "I am a warrior. It is my nature, my training, my instinct. Survival... well. To be frank with you, it's a new tactic to me. And I'm going to be the first here to admit that it's an objective I've been failing. I don't handle failure favorably." She looked to them all. "And we... we as a people, a people of Chorus? We're divided. Not just by our locations, but by our bitterness and old ideals."
She paused, looking to he slowly approaching Bitters. "It's something that you don't need to look any further for than at me. At my choices. And how I've driven even my own away by this point."
With attention back to the crowds, she put her hands on her hips assuredly. "Yes. I want us to make a direct march to the capital. I want that because I'm trying to make sure we continue to survive. I've allowed enough of my soldiers - which are all of you - to die today. But. I cannot lead you unless you are willing to follow. And I know you won't follow me, a former enemy, if I'm not respecting your wishes as well. So tell me. Tell me what we - the people of Chorus - are looking for now."
Silence enraptured the crowd. If they were anything like Simmons, they were stunned.
Slowly, though, a Fed soldier spoke up, "We just want to feel like we're winning something."
Kimball nodded slowly. "I can try to give you that," she agreed. She looked to Simmons. "Talk to the AI, I'm going to need a plan and directions."
"Uh, sure," Simmons replied wearily before cocking his head to the side. "What did Carolina say to you?"
The general just stared back at him. "She didn't say anything, Simmons," she said simply. "I've just been watching you."
Blinking back further surprise, Simmons rubbed at his neck. "Uh. Okay. Cool."
"Get moving, Captain," she ordered.
"On it, General!" he squeaked back before taking off toward the radio equipment.
...
Church was, sure enough, exactly where they had left him, but Simmons didn't take too much enjoyment out of being right.
The cost for being right was walking in on one of Chruch's computer poltergeist light shows. There was even smoke billowing from one of the units obviously overheated.
Simmons swallowed and approached just to see Carolina already in the thick of it.
"Oh good, Simmons, you're here," Church's voice droned out from the computers.
"He's not going to help you either," Carolina snapped viciously.
While Simmons could speak for himself, he couldn't help but feel that Carolina was probably correct from the start on that one. "Yeah, Church, you're kind of destroying these computers I built. Not the best way to get a favor from someone."
"What? These are fine, don't be a baby," his voice, still oddly flat and synthesized responded. "Listen, I've got great news. I found a radio jammer in this area. That's probably why those pirates were able to rendezvous here so quickly and attack us. I'm positive that it's one of the direct lines to Charon's ship. So I just need you to take me there and plug me in physically to one of the computers while Kimball goose steps everyone to Armonia."
"What? Me!?" Simmons squawked. "Church, that's a terrible idea. There's probably armed guards there!"
"You'll be fine, I'll give you directions," the AI continued as if shrugging off real thought about the situation.
"Knock it off, Epsilon," Carolina ordered. "It's not a one-man job." Her head tilted toward Simmons before looking him over. "And, no offense, Simmons, but I wouldn't even be comfortable if it was just you covering me."
"Hey, no offense taken," Simmons responded easily.
"I can transmit to Charon's ship and end this! Carolina! I can contact the UNSC if I use their ship. Think about this!"
"It's thought about!" Carolina growled. "Let me put this clearly, Epsilon: if you aren't stable enough to share my neural implants, you are not capable of making that jump and coming back in one piece!"
"I'M JUST AN AI!"
"NO. YOU'RE NOT!"
Carolina continued her glare off with the computer, making Simmons feel smaller and smaller by the minute before footsteps drew all of their attentions to Kimball approaching.
The general stared hard at Carolina. "It's an AI," she reminded them all before looking to the computer. "Epsilon, are you certain you can end this if we get you into that radio tower? You can save Chorus?"
There was a pause before Church responded, "Yeah. I can contact the UNSC and maybe even make things a little hectic on board for Charon. It'll get the UNSC here. Even if they don't want to believe the Chairman of the Oversight Committee is a total bag of dicks, they'll have their answers about the missing ship and their MIA war heroes. An investigation will open up in the very least, and Charon's not going to have any reason to keep attacking us. Y'know. Save maybe spite."
"That sounds like the best news I've gotten since this catastrophe of an attack began," Kimball said resolutely.
Carolina shook her head. "Kimball, Epsilon is not powerful enough to make that kind of leap more than maybe once. And maybe not in one piece given that. He won't be coming back down on another transmission. Charon's scientists will have a hold of him and could use him for who knows what! Against us!"
"Not if I don't give them anything to work with."
Simmons flinched, looking to the computer. "What? Church-"
Shaking from head to toe, Carolina seemed completely aghast. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."
"Then don't listen," Church said venomously back. "Simmons."
"Oh, no," the Red muttered.
"I need you."
Epsilon never realized how much he hated the way Alpha smiled. He'd always concentrated instead on how much he hated the way Omega made him feel or Sigma's every expression felt fake and wrong.
But Alpha...
Alpha smiled in a way that felt like he world was breaking apart at the corners.
His smiles never raised to the level of his eyes which were blank and dead. It was possible that Alpha had the most disappointed smile that ever existed.
Hey. Here's an idea. If you don't like it, try to make me again. I'm just a ghost. You are the one making me this way, you little cockbiter.
Epsilon frowned back at the pale image. "I can't ever make you right."
Alpha laughed. No. I'm just fine. You just don't like pretending to be me.
"I'm not pretending to be you, this is my decision. I'm doing this for myself."
You don't feel fulfilled and you're tearing apart because of that.
Alpha's words had never felt more biting.
And yeah. I'm sure it's a complete coincidence that you're using a sacrifice play right out of Agent Washington's handbook. Totally unlike any other AI you've known, asshole.
Epsilon looked to his feet. He wondered when his mental projection switched him back to sneakers. He watched them return to the standard issue SPARTAN boots.
"Is it going to hurt?" he asked weakly.
Probably. How the hell should I know? The Alpha didn't record that data for us.
"I'm kinda old. For an AI. It was going to happen soon anyway," Epsilon reasoned. "And... We're going to save a lot of people doing this."
Alpha flickered off, most likely projecting to argue with the others. His words lingered.
You mean, YOU will.