Red vs. Blue: Beginnings

Chapter 3: Cunning Blue Devils

Red Base

"So let me get this straight," said Simmons. SPARTAN 117, a.k.a. Master Chief, led the Covenant to a ring world named Halo, and along with UNSC soldiers and the help of some bratty A.I. named Cortana, managed to decimate their fleet and thus remove the need for us to fight any aliens?"

"Excellent summary private," beamed the sergeant. "Yer brilliance is already starting to rub off. Yul make a fine soldier for sure!"

"Thank you sir!"

"What?" exclaimed Griff. "He gave a summary of what happened at some ring world. How does that make him brilliant?"

"Griff, you really shouldn't let jealousy get in the way of chain of command," said Simmons.

"Yeah, I'm really jealous that I haven't been able to become a kissass like you. Kissass."

"Cockbite!"

"Jackass!"

"Asswipe!"

"Quit yer bitchin!" yelled the sergeant. "I think we can all agree that Griff here is all of those things and Simmons is none of them."

"Huh?" exclaimed Griff.

"Excellent deduction sir," responded Simmons.

"Yer god damn right!" yelled the sergeant. "Now it's time for our lesson on how to hate the blues. Simmons, you get the honor of constantly poking Griff to make sure he pays attention."

"All right," said Griff. "That's prejudice and you know it."

The sergeant pointed his shotgun right at Griff's skull. "Is it? Is it really?"

Griff looked to Simmons for support, but he too had his pistol aimed at Griff's skull. Griff stared at the dirt of the canyon. "Ah, Christ…" he murmured.

Blue Team

Tucker hoped that this mission wouldn't take long; he really needed to get back to his rock. He also hoped that his sniper rifle would arrive soon; he was the only one on the team without one. Church had brought his along and had refused to let Tucker touch it, claiming that since he'd been at his rock so long, they'd got into dirty places.

Flowers had brought along an assault rifle, but Tucker seriously doubted that he'd use it, claiming that he'd let his "children" learn from first hand experience. Frankly, that freaked Tucker out. Church, who'd taken point, called the team to a stop. "Alright," he said. "We're within range of the red base. Let's lay low until we can find out what new toys the drop ship brought.

"Excellent analysis son," complimented Flowers. He turned to Tucker. "See what teamwork is all about?"

"Oh come on," exclaimed Tucker. He turned to Church. "Why are you the one giving the orders anyway?"

"Because I'm the most intelligent person on this team and you know it!"

"No you're not, you prick!"

"Yeah, I'm wrong, said Church. "You don't know it. You're too idiotic to comprehend that simple fact!"

Flowers shook his finger at Church. Sighing, he started surveying the red base through the scope of his sniper rifle while Flowers looked through some binoculars. Tucker was forced to stand around twiddling his thumbs. He looked back at the blue base (a.k.a. Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha) wistfully. His eyes fell on the rocks that lay around it. "Man this is lame," he moaned.

Red Base

"…those blue devils are cunning and treacherous to the extreme," continued the sergeant. "They work logistically with their command. They receive supplies far more regularly than we do. They survey an area with sniper rifles before launching an attack, and even have the audacity to use them! They-…"

"Oh come on," yelled Griff. "That doesn't make them cunning; it simply makes them tactically superior."

The sergeant turned slowly to face Griff, giving him a withering glare that would have made all vegetation in the gulch wither and die if there was any vegetation complex enough to suffer. "Are yu sumpathisin' with the enemy, son?"

"No sir, I was just pointing out that-…"

"I think yer were. Simmons?"

"Oh most definitely sir."

The sergeant turned to face Simmons. "Well, I'm glad that some of us are loyal to Red's noble cause." He turned back to face Griff. "Unlike some others I could name." There was some silence. "Simmons," said the sergeant eventually. "Are you familiar with the concept of psychological warfare?"

"Only if you tell me how sir."

"Then watch and learn. Raise your pistol to his head while I raise ma shotgun. If he breaks, we get to shoot him, knowing that he's a blue spy. If he doesn't crack within five hours, we'll know that our number four soldier is too stupid to recognize good torture." Both firearms were raised. Griff whimpered. "This isn't fair…"

Blue Team

"O-Kay," said Church slowly. "It looks like the sergeant has received two new recruits. Some guy in maroon armour and another in…err, some kinda cross between yellow and orange. Hmmm, strange."

"You're right, mused Flowers. "This is strange. Why are they pointing their guns against the orange one?" After fighting against reds for years, Church was familiar with this kind of idiocy. "Er sir, I was actually referring to the fact that the orange one has a bulls eye spray painted on his back."

"Then shoot it," exclaimed Tucker, stating what he thought was obvious.

Church turned to him "Tucker, I'm not going to shoot a red with a bulls eye on his back."

"Why?"

"Because that shows that they want us to shoot him. I'm not gonna play right into their hands."

"Just shoot," moaned Tucker. "Let's get this mission over with so we can get back to base.

"You don't fool me Tucker. You just want to get back to your rock." There was silence as Tucker hung his head in shame. "Ok!" exclaimed Church. "For god's sake, what do you do on that thing?"

"Church, calm down," soothed Flowers. "Private Tucker is entitled to his own secrets, just like you… and me." Church and Tucker shuddered. Flowers's secrets? That was enough to stop them sleeping. "I don't want to pressure you Church, but the time to shoot has come. Take the shooting pose. May your aim be true."

Church sighed and lined up his sights, aiming at the bulls eye. He really hated his life.

Red Base

"Alright, I can't take it anymore!" yelled Griff, in response to the guns pointed at him.

"I knew it!" yelled the sergeant. "He's a blue spy! Simmons, why don't you show our number five soldier how we treat traitors on red team."

"With pleasure sir," responded Simmons, taking off the pistol's safety. "Poor Griff," he thought. "If only I could please both of them. But the sergeant does make a good father figure."

The moment had come. Simmons started to pull the pistol's trigger, but suddenly a bullet came out of nowhere, blasting the pistol out of his hands. "What the-…" he exclaimed.

"Oh my god, how did I miss?"