Welcome to Chapter Four, Spartans! This time around, the Reds get attacked by the Blues and Donut has a less than enjoyable thing happen to him. Meanwhile, Project Freelancer gets an interesting report...
I actually didn't think about the Blood Gulch Chronicles when I conceptualized the story, so I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. The same goes for Origin Story's near-entirety and Red vs Blue: Reach's pre-Fall arc.
In terms of ideas, I want to write a RWBY story, but I can't figure out what to write. I'm thinking of a Halo AU for RWBY with different events from canon RWBY, but that's probably a dumb idea.
Just enjoy!
Blue Base
Blood Gulch, Nondescript Planet
October 17, 2552
Lavernius Tucker
1025 Hours
"So... you're telling me that you actually snagged the Reds' plans to attack our base?" Church asked skeptically. Tucker couldn't blame him.
"Dude, the Reds are dumb as shit, and their sergeant is a senile nut-job, so I cooled off, waltzed in, had a couple of beers with 'em, and I got their plans and escaped." Tucker pulled his helmet off, hooking the camera up to the computer and transferring the screenshot of the Reds' plans to it.
As the plan appeared, Church's eyes widened as he took in the photo.
"Holy shit, man. Nice work. I mean it." he said appreciatively. If only he could be convinced of the truth.
"Thanks. Let's hope they didn't see through my play."
Red Base, Blood Gulch
1025 Hours
"This is Staff Sergeant Sarge, calling for reinforcements to assault Blue Base with." Sarge said, holding a radio.
"Hey, Simmons." Grif said, addressing the maroon nerd.
"What?"
"Do you think we could actually pull this off?"
"Yes! The Blues are idiots! They're not gonna see through Tucker's play!"
"And you two aren't gonna see through your bitterness long enough to notice your obviously growing feelings for each other!" Donut yelled from the other room.
"What the fuck did he just say?" Grif asked, picking up his BR55.
"I dunno. Donut's probably yanking our chains."
"No, I'm trying to get two obviously in-love men to recognize their feelings for each other and get married!"
"Wait... is that idiot suggesting that we're crushing on each other?" Simmons asked, realizing what Donut said. "Sir, permission to discipline Private Donut?" he directed at Sarge.
"Permission granted." he said, still on the radio with Command.
"Come on, Grif."
"Yeah. We've got a yaoi-addicted idiot to beat up."
Fortunately, Sarge's call to command was done, because Donut's screams rent the air for a solid hour.
Blue Base, Blood Gulch
One week later...
1000 Hours
"What is that car?" Church asked, usibg his Sniper Rifle to stare at a two seated vehicle with a turret on the back from the cliffs.
"Holy shit, that's a Warthog." Tucker exhaled, holding a set of binoculars. "The UNSC uses them as scouting vehicles and the turret on the back gives it a great offensive option."
"This is just what I think, but it kinda looks like a cat."
"I know, right?!" Tucker laughed. "It's called the Warthog, but it looks like a puma!"
"I wonder what the Reds are talkng about." Church said.
Red Base, Blood Gulch
1000 Hours
"Gentleman! This is the M12 LRV! The UNSC calls it a Warthog!" Sarge said, posed like a game show host showcasing a prize.
"Why Warthog, sir?" Simmons asked.
"Because it's tough like one! And it packs a punch!"
"Yeah, Simmons." Grif said. "But, personally, I think it looks like a puma."
"You mean the shoe company?"
"No, it's an extinct wildcat that lived in the mountains!"
"I personally doubt their existence, but Grif swears they were real." Sarge commented. "Lopez, bring it to the garage."
The silent brown soldier drove the Warthog back to its place while his teammates watched.
"Whoa..." Simmons said. "Imagine those aliens coming up to our base, only for them to see the Warthog and get torn apart by the turret."
"It's a beauuuuutiful sight, Simmons!" Sarge exclaimed happily. "All those bits of armor and Covvie scum flying all over the place and the sound of your turret gunning them down, it's glorious!"
Simmons nervously chuckled as his leader we t on about the beauty of the Warthog turret's Covenant-slaying capabilities.
"They're really fun to drive, too." Grif supplied lazily, pulling a can of beer out of his armor's snack compartment. "It's best driven without driving regulations in mind, though."
"Hey, numbnuts!" Sarge called out somewhat contentedly. "You think the Blues are spyin' on us?"
Simmons turned around and looked at the cliffs, where a soldier in cobalt armor stood, a Sniper Rifle in his hands.
"Oh, shit!" Simmons hit the deck, running back to base as a round flew over his head. "He's shooting!"
A round landed in Grif's beer can, splattering the alcoholic beverage all over his orange armor.
"Fuck this! I'm getting the rifle!" he yelled, following Simmons into Red Base's armory.
"Well, I'll be joining you, then!" Sarge yelled, picking up Grif's dropped helmet and throwing it, causing their assailant to shift his attention and shoot the orange helmet.
"Haha, you dirty Blue!" he yelled, laughing. "You suck!"
Leonard Church
Blue Cliffs, Blood Gulch
1009 Hours
Church whooped as he fired a round into the orange soldier's beer can.
"Fuck you, assholes!" he screamed delightfully as he ran back inside.
"You're having a lot of fun, aren't you?" Tucker asked, holding his DMR as a scouting tool, although he would join Church's attack if he had to.
"Fuck yeah, dude! You wanna try?!"
"Nah, I'll keep watch over you. If they see me, the plan's busted." the blonde said, a smirk under his helmet.
"I think you're enjoying watching me shoot them more than the act itself."
"Eh, isn't it more productive to screw with them rather than kill them."
A moment of silence...
"You're right." Church fired a shot into the airborne orange helmet that was thrown by the Red leader. "It is."
"Uh, Church? They've got a-- FUCKING HELL!"
A Sniper round landed directly below Tucker's groin, having bounced off of the cliffside. The aqua soldier retaliated and began to fire his DMR at the Reds.
"Let's go, Tucker!" Church yelled, getting down from the cliffs.
"Yes, sir!"
Dexter Grif
Red Base, Blood Gulch
1011 Hours
"Yeah! Look at 'em go!" Grif yelled as the Blues retreated from his Sniper Rifle's fire.
"Yeah! Suck it, Blues!" Simmons added, firing at them with his Battle Rifle.
A Sniper round fired by the cobalt soldier grazed the handlebar of Grif's rifle, but Grif maintained focus. Now was not the time to panic. He had better things to do.
Grif fired, knocking the rifle out of the hands of a familiar aqua colored soldier. He threw a grenade in retaliation, and it landed on the base's roof with them.
"Oh, shit!" Simmons yelled as he threw the grenade into the base's teleporter. The explosive was teleported away from the base, and it detonated in the middle of the canyon, throwing dirt and dust around its blast radius.
"Nice job, dude." Grif commented.
"Those Blues are fucking nuts." Simmons said.
"Woohoo! You two are willingly spending time together! Grimmons will sail sooner than I thought!" a familiar voice said, and the two Reds turned to see a red armored soldier standing there.
They knew it wasn't Sarge, because his armor wasn't glossy, and that left one person.
"Donut, what are you doing here?" Grif asked tiredly.
"Seeing your relationship bloom!" Donut replied. "I knew it was love on first sight!"
BAM!
Donut fell from a sniper shot to his chest, and Grif was sure that his eyes were wide with shock.
"Donut!"
"Son of a bitch!"
Blue Team, Blood Gulch
1015 Hours
"Direct hit!" Church yelled as his last shot for the time being struck a red soldier in the chest. "Fuck you, Red!"
"Go Church!" Caboose, who had joined Church on the cliff, cheered.
"Hey, Tucker! I got someone!"
"Nice. Anyways, get back to base, they're probably gonna want blood for that." Tucker replied from the comms. He was halfway to the base by now, but Church stuck around to fire one last shot.
"Yeah. Come on, rookie." Church said to Caboose.
"Okay!" the blue idiot said, following his CO off of the cliff.
Dexter Grif
Red Base, Blood Gulch
1015 Hours
The two Reds were immediately pulling Donut's limp form back inside the base, trying to staunch the bleeding. From what Grif could tell, the heavy anti-materiel round tore through the armor's breastplate with incredible ease and continued through the back.
Seriously, why is the simulation trooper armor so shitty?!
Grif would probably kill to get his ODST battle armor back.
"Sarge! Donut's hit!" Simmons yelled, placing their wounded man on the War Room's table, trying to take off the destroyed armor.
"Yeah! Man down!"
Sarge and Lopez were on top of them in an instant, wielding biofoam canisters and first-aid kits.
"Hang in there, Private!" Sarge told the wounded Red, who was coughing blood up now.
"That stupid fucking simulation trooper!" Grif yelled, successfully pulling the breastplate off of Donut's chest. "Why can't they think for two fucking seconds?!"
"Lopez! Get Command on the phone!" Sarge yelled to the mute, who grabbed the radio and dialed Command's number, handing it to Sarge.
"Heyo, duderino!" Vic yelled. "What's the occasion for this super special call?!"
"One of our guys are dying, goddamnit!" Grif yelled.
"We need a medevac, pronto!" Sarge barked into the radio.
"Righty-o!"
"Hurry up, you incompetent fool! Step on it!" Sarge hung up as Lopez drew surgical tools from a bag on his hip. "Lopez! We need biofoam! It went through and through!"
Lopez pulled out biofoam and injected it into Donut's wound.
"Gah-- OW!" Donut yelped.
"It'll help you in the long run, Donut!' Grif yelled, distressed. The memory of Holly Caboose's death still haunted the ex-ODST, and he didn't want a repeat. "Just fucking hang on!"
"Hang on!" Simmons added in the same level of distress as his teammate.
Why?! Why do we keep having to lose people?!
When the medevac finally arrived, two men in white and red uniforms grabbed Donut and heaved him onto a stretcher, then they pulled him out of the room to a Pelican that was waiting outside.
Sarge headed outside, hopping into the Pelican's cargo bay as the EMTs brought Donut into it.
"Sergeant, what are you--?!" an EMT tried to ask, but he was cut off by the elder Red.
"Keeping an eye on my soldier!" Sarge yelled. "Now get going!"
The EMT closed the Pelican's cargo bay up and the aerial vehicle took off, no doubt heading to Red Command to try and save Donut.
Now, with Donut wounded and Sarge accompanying him to Red Command, the remaining Reds were out for blood. Even if it cost them their lives, they would kill that cobalt armored bastard.
They owed that to Donut.
Agent Wyoming
Sidewinder, Unkown System
October 17, 2552
1230 Hours
The white armored soldier would have stuck out like a sore thumb... had he been anywhere that wasn't Sidewinder. One perk about being in the coldest simulation outpost Project Freelancer had was the fact that his armor allowed him to blend in.
Wyoming hated the snow. Despite the fact that his armor perfectly blended in with it, nothing kept it from being dreadfully cold. If he had his way, then he'd just be sitting in a log cabin with a fireplace full of burning firewood with some tea and biscuits.
However, either the simulation troopers kept getting smarter and learning the truth, threatening to tear the charade the Director had set up down or some rich bloke would do something horrendous and Wyoming would get paid to put him down.
That last rich bloke was a bit more personal, because he had thought he could have a better moustache than Wyoming.
Either way, as Wyoming fired a final shot into a Red Army soldier, he got up and holstered his Sniper Rifle, glad that he could rest.
"Finally." he muttered in relief.
"Wyoming, the Director is calling." his A.I. Gamma said.
"Bollocks. Patch him through." the Brit said.
"Agent Wyoming." a Southern accented voice said. "Are you free for now?"
"Yes..." Wyoming groaned.
"This is important. A Blue simulation trooper learned about the Project." the Director began.
"Again?"
"In Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha." the Director added. "The Red troopers seem to know as well."
"Bloody hell."
"Anyways, you need to kill them. All of them, and the Alpha needs to be moved."
I reiterate, bloody hell.
"Alright. Who're the targets?"
The Director gave him the names.
"Alright... is the Blue's name spelled with a 'T' or an 'F?'"
"It's a 'T', Wyoming. Go catch a flight, it'll take a week to get there. If you get this done, I'll pay you handsomely."
"Understood, sir. Over an out."
The Director hung up, allowing Wyoming to breathe a little.
Seriously, why can't anything be simple anymore?
Mwahahahahaha! Watch out, guys! Wyoming's on the hunt!
So what if it's a little earlier than usual? There's still some stuff I want to cover before they leave Blood Gulch and the real fight starts, but 8 need to get the show on the road.
The rich guy Wyoming killed is a referrence to Jacques Schnee from RWBY. Seriously, that bastard has quite the moustache. Anyways, I'll see you next chapter!