Author's Note: Happy Star Wars Day! My next chapter is up and ready for this special day!

Any and all comments are welcome

Commander Strike made it to the Red base for his daily checkup. He had expected Grif to be making a mess, Simmons complaining about the mess, and Sarge plotting to kill the Blue team. He had no idea of what he was about to find instead.

As soon as he arrived, he caught Sarge messing around with the insides of a soldier-looking robot. Simmons and Grif were too busy talking about robot uprisings in the movies.

"What's going on?" Strike asked.

"WHOA! STRIKE!" Simmons yelled out. "Man, we gotta put a bell on you!"

"Send me a memo. Again, what's going on?"

"Oh, we're just waiting for Sarge to finish with his new robot." Grif said.

"You're making another clanker?" Strike asked.

"More like a fixer!" Sarge declared. "Once we get this guy up and running, he'll fix up the radio tower for us."

"How are you able to build it?" Strike asked.

"We recovered an old robot building kit from the crash." Simmons said. "I keep insisting to Sarge that we should use the tools to fix the radio tower instead of building someone else to fix it, but you know how Sarge is."

"Hey, Strike, while you're here, settle a bet." Grif said. "Don't you think this will ultimately lead to a robot uprising?"

"Well, I may be biased since I was made specifically to destroy robots… and Jedi ultimately, but robots are much more preferable for me to destroy."

"Well, Optimus Prime's uncle!" Sarge declared shooting himself up to a standing position. "I think we're in business." Then, the robot in front of them turned on and faced the four. "Ladies, allow me to introduce to you the newest member of Red team."

"Can it talk?" Grif asked.

"…Hola."

"OH, COME ON!" everyone groaned.

"That is a disturbing coincidence." Sarge said.

"How is that even possible?" Strike asked.

"Spanish. Why did it have to be Spanish?" Grif asked. "Why not French or German or Sangheili?"

"I'm sorry." Said the robot in his native language. "My programming currently set my primary language to Spanish."

Sarge chuckled. "You know, this reminds me of the good ol' days. Welcome to Red team, Lopez Dos.0."

"Thank you, sir." The robot said. "I…"

"Now, get to work." Sarge said. "The radio tower. Pronto. Reparo dos rapido."

"It's Spanish, Sarge, not Harry Potter." Grif said.

"You know, I've been meaning to read that." Strike said.

"Read? Eff that!" Grif said. "The movies are where the action's at!"

"There are movies?" Strike asked.

"I'm guessing there's a radio tower that you wish me to repair?" Dos.0 asked.

"…Hmm. He doesn't appear to be doing anything." Strike said.

"Maybe he's stupid." Simmons said.

"That must be it." Sarge said. "So let's take him to the radio tower."

"Why?" Grif asked. "He's a moron."

"True, but maybe he'll be like a Rain Man type moron." Sarge said.

After a failed attempt at trying to interpret her visions, Jena decided she needed some fresh air. She decided to check on the radio tower progress. She went there only to find Washington at the panel of the tower while Tucker was walking in and out of the circuit breaker.

"What exactly are you doing down there, Tucker?" Washington asked.

"Oh, you know… calibrating."

"Calibrating? …You haven't done anything, have you?"

"Dude, I don't know what's happening or why you brought me here."

"Right. Should have expected as much."

"Hey, boys." Jena said as she approached the Freelancer.

"Oh, hey, Jena." Washington said.

"Any progress?"

"About as much as you'd expect." Washington said sullenly. "What about you? Where have you been the past few days?"

"The truth is, I've had some kind of vision." Jena replied. "I don't know what to make of it."

"You sure it wasn't just a dream?" Washington asked.

"No way. Jedi don't have dreams." Jena answered. "I've been trying to interpret them, but without a Jedi Master to consult, I'm almost as clueless as Caboose. Speaking of, where is he?"

"I don't know." Washington said. "He's been acting strange the past couple days."

"Hey, guys. We've got a problem." Tucker called out.

"What kind of… Oh." Washington and Jena looked down and saw the Red team standing behind Tucker.

"Good to see you too." Grif said.

"What's going on, Strike?" Jena asked.

"Well, these red eggheads think they can help with the radio tower." Strike explained.

"No. That's a terrible idea." Washington said.

"But we can provide tech support." Simmons said.

"Have you tried using any D batteries?" Sarge asked.

"Power isn't the problem." Washington said. "These battery arrays are solar."

"Well, there's your problem!" Sarge shouted. "This baby needs to be converted to diesel on the double!"

"You do know that solar is standard for UNSC equipment, right?" Washington asked.

"Well, ooh, la, la, Private Hippie!" Sarge said. "Why don't we just grow ourselves a tomato garden and open a farmer's market? Then, on the first Saturday of the month, when the UNSC shows up for some fresh, sustainable produce, we just hop onboard and ride on back on the power of love!"

"Sarge, you're clearly in denial over how more efficient this is." Jena said.

"Well, I got a much better solution than just fixing it: have someone else fix it." Sarge stated. "And who better than our incredibly advanced robotic companion?"

Sarge gestured himself over to Dos.0 who looked up at Washington and Jena.

"Hola."

"Nope!" Wash yelled quickly.

"Isn't that the same robot that was decapitated and hung in that vegetable patch in Valhalla?" Jena asked.

"Not exactly." Simmons said. "This one's not very smart."

"I don't think that's the case." Strike said. "After all, none of us can speak that language."

During that conversation, Dos.0 decided to do his job. He went on over to the circuit breakers underneath the tower and went to work.

"Why don't you guys head over to the storage and count our supplies?" Washington asked. "It's been a while since I've done a full inventory check."

"You can't just shove your bitch work on us? What do we look like?" Simmons asked.

"Uh, bitches?" Tucker joked.

"Tucker, I want 100 squats." Washington said.

"What? But it was leg day yesterday!"

"You're a space marine, private. Every day is leg day."

"This is so stupid." Tucker complained as he began squatting.

"Hey, if you think this is harsh, you should have trained under Master Windu." Jena said. "He was basically the militaristic Jedi Master."

"I don't need another space-wizard story, Jena!" Tucker growled.

"Sounds like you're a bitch after all." Grif mocked.

"Your sister was my bitch if I remember correctly." Tucker remarked.

"What did you say to me, bitch?" Grif asked threateningly.

"Would you all stop calling each other bitches?" Jena asked.

"No one is a bitch." Strike said.

"Would everyone be quiet?" Wash asked.

"…Simmons is kind of a bitch." Grif said.

"HEY, WHAT THE EFF!" Simmons complained.

"Oh, can it, Private Bitch." Sarge said.

"Yes, sir." Simmons said.

"Bitch!" everyone yelled simultaneously.

"I SAID BE QUIET!" Wash yelled giving the radio a good punch. Suddenly, the light turned on and a whirring sound was heard. Everyone was stunned to hear that.

"Did you just hear that?" Jena asked.

"I sure did!" Strike said.

It was actually Dos.0 who fixed the radio tower, but no one was listening to him. Washington quickly activated the radio and called.

"Mayday, mayday. This is Agent Washington. Can anyone read me? Over."

There was no answer.

"Maybe they're screening our calls." Grif said.

"What do you mean they? Who is they?" Strike asked.

"I don't know. People who know us?"

"What?" Jena asked.

"Look, I wouldn't pick up the phone if any of you losers called me." Grif elaborated.

Washington tried again. "Mayday, mayday. We are survivors of a shipwreck and are in need of immediate rescue. Please, respond."

"Don't call them back right away." Tucker said. "You gotta wait, or else you'll look desperate."

"We are desperate, you moron!" Strike said.

Washington tried again. "Mayday, mayday. This is Agent Washington, the Red and Blue troopers of Project Freelancer, Jena Isa of the Jedi, and Strike of the Republic clones! We are stranded! Does anyone copy? …Mayday, this is Agent Washington! I am a soldier! …Is anybody out there? …Can anybody read me?!"

"…Hello? Is someone there?" asked a voice through the radio. It was breaking through static.

Jena was delighted to hear an answer. "It's working! Someone's hearing us!"

"Hello? Is this a prank call?"

"No! This isn't a prank!" Washington said. Please, you have to listen to me! My friends and I are shipwrecked!"

"It's an emergency!" Strike yelled out.

"Life or death!" Jena said.

"Blackhawk down!" Grif called.

"Code red!" Sarge shouted.

"What, like a lightish-red?"

"…What the eff did he just say?" Tucker asked.

The voice came in clearer. It sounded like a man trying to sound girly. "'Cause, I mean, red is a pretty broad spectrum. There's scarlet, vermillion, like a deep burgyndy…"

"Donut, is that you?" Sarge asked.

"Sarge?" Donut asked from the other end of the call. "Oh, hey, guys! What have you all been up to?"

"We're stranded in the middle of the jungle with dwindling food and limited supplies!" Sarge explained.

"…That sucks."

"Donut, I need you to listen to me." Sarge said. "You need to send help. Call Command."

"Which one's Donut again?" Jena asked.

"Command? I think I know a guy if you want to turn this call into a three-way."

"Never mind. I remember." Jena groaned. "Look, Donut, we need you to write down these coordinates." Jena went on and gave Donut a series of numbers, but there appeared to be a miscommunication problem.

"Sorry, Did you say five or nine?"

"I said eight." Jena sighed. "Now, Donut, those are our last known coordinates, but be sure to let the rescue team know we have no idea where we actually landed. They'll have to look around for us."

"Don't worry, guys." Donut assured. "No matter how deep the bush, Private Donut always finds his man!"

"I'm going to forget that you made another innuendo and that you called me a man." Jena sighed. "Just send up."

"Okie, dokie!" Donut said before he signed off.

"So what happened?" Grif asked.

"Well, boys, I don't want to jinx us or anything like that, but… WE'RE GONNA BE RESCUED!" Most of the group (save for Wash, Jena, and Strike) cheered in response to him. "THERE'S NO POSSIBLE WAY ANYTHING CAN GO WRONG! EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE GOOD FOREVER! LET'S EAT ALL OF OUR FOOD RATIONS TONIGHT, AND THEN FIRE ALL OF OUR EXCESS AMMUNITION INDISCRIMINATELY INTO THE AIR TO CELEBRATE!"

"And then, let's fix up that old Warthog that's been hanging near our base… SO THAT WE CAN CRASH IT INTO THE OTHER WARTHOG, BECAUSE EFF IT!"

"YAAAAAHHH!" everyone cheered.

"Guys, it's too early to celebrate." Wash said.

"Washington is right." Strike said.

"Then again, this is the first bit of good news we've had in a while." Jena said.

"Hey, everybody!" Caboose greeted right as he ran into the party.

"Caboose, where have you been?" Wash asked.

"Oh, I went on a walk like you said. And now, EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE GOOD FOREVER!"

"Told you so." Sarge said.

"What do you mean?" Jena asked. "You were miserable the other day? What changed?"

"Oh, right. Where are my manners? I haven't introduced him."

"Introduced… who?" Washington asked nervously.

"Freckles! Come!" Caboose called out before whistling.

Everyone got nervous when the vibrations began to form in their feet. Machine sounds whirred like footprints. And right in front of everyone, a large robot with two legs, a metal head, and rocket storages on its sides stood behind Caboose.

"The machine from my vision." Jena gasped.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet Freckles!" Caboose cheered.

"Enemy soldiers detected." The robot said.

"Those aren't enemies, Freckles." Caboose said. "Those are Grif and Simmons… our enemies."

"Firing main cannon!"

"NO! Freckles, don't! Bad!"

The robot called Freckles quickly complied to Caboose's command. "Yes, master."

Caboose nodded before turning back to the others. "So… what are you guys up to?"

Strike gulped before turning to Jena. "Well, sunshine, this is a Blue Team affair. I leave this up to you?"

"Oh, boy." Jena said nervously staring at the same robot that was in her visions.

"Mayday, mayday. This is Agent Washington, the Red and Blue troopers of Project Freelancer, Jena Isa of the Jedi, and Strike of the Republic clones! We are stranded! Does anyone copy? …Mayday, this is Agent Washington! I am a soldier! …Is anybody out there? …Can anybody read me?!"

That message was heard not only by Donut, but also a man in locus armor. He growled before turning going on his radio. "Call the Empire."