Red vs. Blue: Beginnings
Chapter 6: Sucks to be You
Blue Base
"Really 'capy', I'm fine," insisted Church. He was standing inside Blue Base, conversing (much against his will) with Flowers, who'd finally managed to find him. Church had no idea where Tucker was, though he did have his suspicions…
"Church really, you shouldn't try to play hero," said Flowers with a great deal of concern in his voice. "One look at you is enough to indicate to anyone that something's bothering you."
"What?" exclaimed the private. "I'm wearing a fully encased suit of amour with a reflective visor. How could anyone tell how I'm feeling?"
"Church, amour makes no difference. A father knows these things."
If Church hadn't been wearing a helmet with a reflective visor, Flowers would have seen that his face had gone white. Very, very white. There was also a tint of green to it. Flowers had probably sensed that he'd probably 'upset' the private so he hastily continued;
"Anyway, although I'm glad to see that your shoulder wound is healing nicely from the gunfight with the Reds a few days back, I think that the wound may still be giving you trauma. I don't want to lose you, son."
"Please sir, leave me alone…" moaned Church.
"No Church, I won't leave you alone," responded Flowers, taking on the tone of a whiney mother. "When we got back to base, you made a half hearted attempt to shoot yourself with a pistol. Private Tucker was the one who stopped you from firing, but you clearly detested him for it. The next thing I know, you're making him give you a piggy back ride."
Flowers had turned out to be more observant than Church gave him credit for. "Sir, if someone's trying to commit suicide, they're obviously going to regret being saved. And those piggy back rides are for science."
"Church, I'm glad to foster any interest in scientific fields but this needs to stop now," responded Flowers firmly. He handed Church a piece of paper. Church saw that it had a simple number on it;7PQR49M-2. It seemed very familiar, like he'd used it before, but he couldn't quite remember.
"What's this?" he asked. "A number to call a Pelican so I can get out of this damn canyon?"
"Oh no, far better," beamed Flowers. "That's a life counseling number."
"You're kidding right?"
"Oh no, the person you'll talk to is the best in the field. I'm sure you'll find it most rewarding."
Anything that Flowers found rewarding was almost going to be frightening for Church. "Anyway, I've got to go," continued the captain. "I better check up on Private Tucker. I hope he hasn't hurt himself."
"I do," murmured Church as he watched Flowers head off. "Idiot," he mused as soon as the captain was out of earshot. "The only thing that can hurt Tucker right now is an ejaculation." He looked back at the number. "No way am I calling this piece of shit!"
Red Base
Simmons was standing on top of Red Base, looking out into the canyon. He only had a pistol with him, but who needed weapons when confronted with such vastly inferior forces (the Blues)? Simmons subconsciously stuck out his chest-he was proud to fight for the noble Red cause. And with a top notch sergeant (who'd been dubbed Sarge), how could they lose this fight? Finally, he'd-
"Ah there you are kisass!"
Simmons let out a yelp and turned to the source of the voice, pistol at the ready. Seeing that only Griff was ascending the ramp towards him. He lowered his pistol and instead reached for a grenade.
"Where the hell have you been?" asked Griff, in between breaths. "I couldn't find you or Sarge anywhere. I thought you two might have abandoned me or something."
"That's not two bad an idea," thought Simmons. "Well, well, if it isn't our number four soldier," he said sarcastically. Sarge is at command getting orders, so it's just you and me. Great huh?"
"Simmons, you have no idea how to convey sarcasm," sighed Griff. "Why don't we stick to our roles?"
"Yeah, let's do that," agreed Simmons, trying to be sardonic this time. "I'll continue to be the top notch Red soldier while you remain as the lazy, good for nothing lump of fat that not even the Blues would take prisoner."
"Works for me," said Griff simply. Simmons glared at him. "Griff, what the hell is wrong with you? Most people show at least some ambition. You seem to have none. You've also got no concept of what it is to be a team player. You smoke and eat like there's no tomorrow. Damn it man, you're seriously screwed up!"
"I'm the one who's screwed up?" snapped Griff angrily. "It's you guys that are screwed up. You're an absolute kissass and the largest sycophant I've ever known, who agrees with absolutely everything that Sarge says. As for Sarge himself, well, not only is he violent and erratic but he hates my guts for no real reason!"
Simmons slowly raised his pistol at Griff. "Sarge has every right to hate you," he whispered. "And you'll not insult him in my presence."
"Ah crap, not this routine again," moaned Griff.
Blue Base
Church walked through the corridors of Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, idly wondering where he'd seen the number before. It wasn't that relevant though, and it wasn't as if he was actually going to call it. His ability to think wasn't helped by the fact that he was fairly hungry. Still, that was a good thing, it was a sign that his wound was healing. "May as well have something to eat," he thought. He started making his way to the fridge and started taking off his helmet while opening the fridge. Underneath the amour, Church was-…
"What the fuck? Where'd all the food go?" He put his helmet back on.
Church's question may have been crude but it was definitely valid. There wasn't a morsel left. Blue Command's supply lines may have been woefully inadequate, but they could at least count on having a relatively stable food supply, even if it did have to be rationed sometimes. They seemed to have quite a bit left, how did it suddenly disappear? Unless…
"Tucker!"
Church slammed the fridge door in disgust and looked at the number that Flowers had given him. "Perhaps it is worth calling," he thought. "It's not as if this shithole of a life I have could get any worse."
Red Base
"Ok Griff, I accept the fact that you're lazy, slow, incompetent and that it's not worth trying to change that fact," sighed Simmons.
"Finally!" exclaimed Griff. He started walking back down the ramp. "Let me know if any Blues turn up, I'll be at the pantry."
"However-…" continued Simmons. Griff stopped and slowly turned. This didn't look good.
"However, we still have to find something that will allow you to be an asset to the team."
"Did Sarge condone this?"
Simmons grinned. "Griff, if it was up to Sarge you would have been used as cannon fodder for an attack on the Blues."
"That doesn't come as a surprise," sighed Griff. "Trust you to be privy to that information. How do you get it?" he asked sarcastically.
Simmons ignored him. "Anyway, I've thought of a few occupations that could fit you. Of course, with your 'skills' it's very short."
"Cut to the chase kissass."
Simmons sighed and took out a small piece of pad paper. "Ok, how about a veichle gunner?"
"Gunner positions leave the users exposed. I don't wanna get shot."
"Driver?"
"Simmons, we don't even have any veichles down here."
"Ok," said Simmons, who'd come to the last option on his list. "How about a sniper?"
"Sniper?" asked Griff with genuine interest. "That means I can hang around without moving much right?"
"Well yeah, but you shouldn't rush into this Griff. Being a sniper requires-…"
"Ok, I'll be a sniper. Put an order for a rifle will ya?" asked Griff idly. He started walking back down the ramp.
"Griff, you haven't even thought this through properly."
Griff turned back to face Simmons. "Simmons, if getting a rifle will get you and Sarge off my ass, I'll do it. Put an order for some Oreos on the same shipment. Oh, and you may want to get a self confidence book for yourself." Simmons watched Griff head off, seething.
"Cockbite!"
Blue Base
Church had finally called the number. There was the usual radio sound and the line was established.
"Y'allow, y'allow, I read ya, can you read me, y'allow."
"Uh, yeah this is Private Church from-, wait a minute. Vic, is that you?"
"Heyyy, Private Church," responded the communications officer. "How things holding up for you?"
"Um-…"
"Great, great, so what can we at Blue Command do for you today?"
Church was doing his best not to panic. Taking help from Vic? No way was he doing that.
"Um, yeah, you see, I kinda called a wrong number, so-…"
"Oh wait, Captain Flowers called me in advance. Seems I'm to be a councilor."
Church was getting more concerned about his state of well being. "Uh, yeah, Vic, you really don't have to-…"
"Ok, well it's Blue Command's job to help its soldiers so I'll start reading this fine work of literature. Chapter 1-'How to become a More Social Person'. Don't worry Church, we'll get you through this."
Church tried to cut off the transmission, but Vic had prevented such an action from occurring, having looped into his radio frequency. "Oh my god, is there no peace in this craphole" he moaned. He grabbed his sniper rifle and started heading outside. This situation had to change, and he was going to be the one who did something.
XXX
Ok, that's this chapter done (obviously). I know that I may be stretching Tucker's obsession with food a little, that's more Cabooses's style (at least with sandwiches). Still, his mental image of Tucker was fairly accurate in terms of his sexual desires, so why not food also?
To fans of the series, does anyone have any idea how to convey the radio sound that's made whenever they're communicating? I'd appreciate it.
Finally, I hope I got Vic's personality right. Anyway, please RR. Look forward to Chapter 7: 'My Kingdom for a Sniper Rifle'