Red vs. Blue: Beginnings
Chapter 2: Prelude to 'Battle'
Blue Base
It had taken Church an hour of willpower to summon the energy to break out of his lethargy and report the drop ship to Captain Butch Flowers. Blue Command may have had less evident… disturbing characteristics of personality, but contacting them would mean talking to that sardonic asshole, Vic. Church was willing to take his chances.
"And you're sure you saw the drop ship?" asked Flowers.
"Yes, for the fifth time, I'm sure," sighed Church. "I was hoping that I could convey that within the first two minutes of this conversation."
"Very well," replied Flowers smoothly. "But it's important to make absolutely sure about these things. Rushing into battle blindly only results in the unnecessary deaths of good men, men with bright futures ahead of them, men with families, with kids, men with-…"
"Oh my god…" moaned Church.
Red Base
Griff had always been under the impression that, although training was hell on earth (no, the Covenant hadn't invaded yet), the army, given the desperate circumstances, wouldn't have time to waste over pomp and circumstance. There was the risk of battle of course, but Griff had perfected the art of being lazy long ago. He'd stay out of battles and reap the benefits of wearing SPARTAN armour (even if he wasn't to the same power of Master Chief) and perhaps, with the intellect he had, be promoted to tactician. Then he could sit on his arse all day while eating Oreos and smoking, claiming that it helped him concentrate.
Instead, he'd spent the last hour of his life doing pushups the 'correct' way. Such physical activity was excruciating for him, and it wasn't made any easier by knowing that there was a bulls eye spray painted on his back, and there was an aggressive sergeant pointing a shotgun at him, yelling abuse at every opportunity. That itself wasn't too bad, Griff had learnt how to ignore abuse at school. What really pissed him off was that Simmons would endorse every single frickin point!
Eventually he was done. He and Simmons stood to attention while the sergeant paced around. "Er, permission to speak freely sir?" he asked.
The sergeant turned sharply at him; "Yes, soldier number three?"
"Um, I was wondering, when do we get to start fighting aliens?"
The sergeant looked at him with a look of utter contempt. "Private, I'm demoting yer ta number four."
"But there's only three of us!"
"Yeh, but I'm leaving three open for any additional recruits that arrive, who would obviously be more intelligent than you!"
"Excellent organizational strategy sir!" responded Simmons.
Griff's chances of sitting on his arse were looking less and less likely. "So sir, who are we fighting?"
The sergeant looked deep and hard at each of them. "No aliens ter fight boys. Master Chief stalled their armada at some kinda ring world. Here in Blood Gulch, we're fighting a far more dangerous enemy."
"Who sir?" asked Simmons, his voice full of trepidation. Griff was equally on edge. A more dangerous enemy? Risky for certain, but surely that would increase the chances of promotion.
"Gentlemen," said the sergeant. "We are fighting… the blues."
Griff saw where this was going. He looked up at the sky. "Master Chief… I fucking hate you."
Blue Base
After convincing Flowers that there was indeed a red drop ship that had landed and left, Flowers had called what he called a 'staff meeting.' Private Tucker, the one who spent all his some at some rock, had answered he'd be there in a second, but Flowers had called out that he could take his time. That had resulted in another five minutes of Church's life being wasted.
Tucker had finally arrived though, much to the relief of Church. Tucker may be an annoying prick, but his presence did stop Flowers from being alone with him. "So what's the situation sir?" he asked.
"Private Church has informed me that he saw a red drop ship land and take off again, indicating the existence of reinforcements, or at least supplies."
"And you're sure we can take Church's word on this?" asked Tucker sarcastically.
"Can it asswipe! I'm not the one stuck in standard blue armour!"
"Gentlemen please," soothed Flowers. "As fond as I am of such tomfoolery, someone could end up crying. Right now, we have to take action, which means investigating the Red Base. I've come up with a plan as-…"
"No, not a plan," moaned Tucker. "You know how I feel about plans."
"Tucker, no-one cares how you feel," said Church snidely.
Flowers certainly did though. "Very well private. I don't want to put you in any uncomfortable positions" (a flash of Tucker being in an 'uncomfortable position' flashed through Church's mind, making him shudder). "We'll carry out this mission with a simple strategy in mind."
"Ok, that works," replied Tucker. His face suddenly lit up. "Hey, can I use the sniper rifle this time?"
"No," replied Church simply. Flowers was more in-depth. "Don't worry Tucker; I'm sure command has sent you one."
"But that was three months ago. I think something must have gone wrong with the shipment."
"Gone wrong?" asked Church. "I don't think that anything's gone wrong. It's just that command is too dumb to organize a proper supply line. We received a shipment of food three months ago and that's all we have! It's starting to go off!"
"Yeah, food's important," agreed Tucker, rubbing his stomach. Flowers looked at them sympathetically. "I'll see what I can do," he said. "But now, it's time to carry out…our mission."
"Great," muttered Tucker.