Red vs. Blue: Beginnings
Chapter Thirteen: Finishing the Fight
Red Command
There were times when Church felt that the whole universe was against him. He'd been sent to the least desirable piece of real estate in the known universe. He was forced to put up with Flowers and Tucker. He'd been shot in the shoulder. He'd been forced to interact with Wyoming. He'd nearly died in an explosion due to that very cockbite. And to top it all off, he was staring down the barrel of a shotgun currently wielded by a homicidal, Red Army sergeant. Church sighed; he was past caring.
"Well, aren't you going to beg for mercy?" snarled Sarge, looking at the three Blues.
"We Blues will never beg for mercy," declared Flowers, rising to his feet.
"You've got courage, I'll give you that. Still, when I'm done, it'll be more broken than Griff's bones will be in the near future."
"Huh? Why's he angry at me this time?" Griff asked Simmons.
"For existing of course. Quite frankly, I can't blame him."
Griff sighed; "If anyone wants me I'll be in an escape pod." With that he started to head towards the door that led out of the hanger. Surprisingly it opened before Griff reached it, two individuals walking out. One was dressed in the standard white uniform that naval officers wore, the Red Army symbol (the snake on the black triangle) showing on his upper left chest. The other was wearing cyan coloured MJLONIR armour. A helmet was under his arm, short brown hair, brown eyes and a straight face showing. However, the features were barely noticed, his armour being the focus of the attention. Cyan coloured armour could only mean one thing-a Blue was on the station.
"Sarge, heads up, there's a Blue here!" exclaimed Griff.
"Of course there is arse-wipe, three of them! I'm currently pointing ma shotgun at one of them!"
"No, there's an extra one!"
"Griff, I'm well aware that you can't count, don't reinforce that fact!"
In this time the Admiral and his blue coloured visitor had walked over to Phil, deducing that the orange one was a complete and utter noob. Phil quickly saluted to both of them-no doubt the Blue was of a higher rank than him. After all, everyone was of a higher rank than him.
"At ease private," said the admiral. "I understand that there was an interesting occurrence in this hanger recently.
"There was sir. Still, I think you better ask that guy over there." He pointed to Sarge, who was still engaging in a staring contest with Flowers. Church and Tucker were trying to get the blue's attention-he wasn't giving it to them.
"Private, what the hell are you doing?" asked the admiral.
"He's actually a sergeant sir," said Simmons. "Damn good one too."
"Shut up kisass, you're spoiling the moment," said Griff.
"What moment?"
"That Sarge is going to be in for it."
The admiral tapped Sarge on the shoulder, who quickly spun around; "What?"
"Well for starters private, you could answer me when I'm calling you."
"Private? I'm no private! I'm a sergeant."
The admiral shrugged; "Whatever. First things first, I want to know what the hell you're doing."
"Threatening the blues with disembowelment, what do ya think?"
"I thought he was threatening us with breaking our bones," whispered Tucker to Church.
"He was, he just stopped short," answered the cobalt one. "Pity."
"Huh? How is not getting our bones broken a pity?"
"Because I'm pretty sure that he'd start with Flowers then you, with the admiral coming in time to save me."
"…you're a prick."
The admiral was currently engaged in a heated argument with Sarge; "Don't you lecture me you wussy navy pup!" yelled Sarge. "Who in Sam's hell are ya anyway?"
"Look at my name tag private-Admiral Tobias McClellan."
"Oh really? I find that hard to believe," snarled Sarge.
"And how's that?"
"Because a real admiral would know that I'm a sergeant, not a private!"
"Whatever, I'm not really interested in your rank. What I do want to know is what occurred on this deck that was worthy of my attention."
Sarge began to explain to the admiral, with the Reds looking on, the Blues forgotten. The cyan coloured one walked over. "You guys ok?" he asked.
"Fine for now," said Flowers. "But may I ask what a fine chap like you is doing in a Red Army Installation."
Although slightly uneasy at being called a "fine chap," the soldier willingly answered; "What's wrong with being with the Red Army?"
"Er, because we're Blue?" asked Church.
"What to you mean blue, you're cobalt," said Tucker.
"Yeah, and proud of it. "You're the one in standard blue armour, I've got nothing to be ashamed of."
"Really? I could name a few things."
"Stop bickering you two, let the man finish talking," scolded Flowers. He turned back to face the stranger; "So it's acceptable to be in the Red Army now days is it?" Never heard that."
"What, didn't you receive the transmission that Blue Command sent to all its forces? Where you guys based?"
Tucker, Church and Flowers exchanged an uneasy glance with each other before Church answered; "Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha."
The new blue snorted; "Blood Gulch eh? That explains a lot."
"What, what's wrong with Blood Gulch?" asked Tucker. He noticed that Church was giving him a withering glare; "What?"
"Tucker, that's the dumbest question I ever heard. And if you ever show such a bout of stupidity again, I'm going to have to fucking kill you."
"Duly noted asshole."
"Tucker, Church, watch your manners!" exclaimed Flowers. He turned his attention back to his visitor; "As you've no doubt gathered, we didn't receive any transmission. Maybe an error in our receiver."
"Or Blue Command forgot about us," suggested Tucker.
"Or Vic decided to be a sardonic asshole again," muttered Church.
The cyan armoured soldier sighed and pulled out something from his belt that stored additional ammunition. Surprisingly it wasn't a weapon; instead, it was a simple piece of printed paper.
"What's that?" asked Tucker.
"It's a piece of paper, what do you think dumb ass?" asked Church.
"You know what I mean."
The soldier sighed and handed it to Flowers. "Read it. It may give you some insight, provided that your brains are more developed than the rest of your squad. My own would have kicked your arses."
"Really? Where are they now?" sneered Church.
The soldier put his helmet back on before answering; "Dead. We were stationed at Danger Canyon when we received the transmission. Soon after…well, let's just say that the Covenant are bloodthirsty bastards." With that, he walked off.
Flowers had a great urge to express fatherly sympathy, but resisted it, the first time he'd managed to do so. He started reading, with Tucker looking over. Even Church looked at it, if only out of morbid curiosity.
Blue Army Emergency Priority Order F21C201R4
Encryption Code: Blue
Public Key: file/ASAP
From: Blue Command
To: All Blue Army and Navy Forces
Subject: High Priority Order A18S21V23Y26
Classification: RESTRICTED
Date: October 21st, 2552
To all Blue Army Commanders
All Blue Army fleets are to muster at rally point Lamda (see co-ordinates in attached file). Upon receiving this message, standard slipspace jumps are to be carried out within 0400 hours. All ground forces are to send out encrypted transmissions. Any vessel which receives one of these is obliged to extract these forces. Failure to do so will be regarded as insubordination and those responsible will be punished accordingly.
Until further notice, all Red Army Forces are to be regarded as allies. They've received the same notice. However, caution is advised. Also note that unless changes occur in the chain of command, all naval forces are under the overall command of UNSC Fleet Admiral Sir Terrance Hood. Failure to comply with this will also be regarded as insubordination.
Further information will be provided once you've arrived at the rally point. However, you should note that at this point in time it's highly likely that there will be a high number of Covenant vessels in this section of space. If such vessels are encountered, remember the following;
If in a position where it is likely that a fleet engagement could be won, engage by all and any means necessary. Kills are all that matters.
If in a position where a win is far from guaranteed, initiate a blind slipspace jump as per the Cole Protocol, trying to lead them off. However, do not erase the co-ordinates to Earth however.
This is all. May the blessings of the Eagle be upon you.
XXXX
"That's it," said Flowers, turning to his two privates who were both listening aptly.
"Wow, I'm impressed," said Church. "Blue Command actually sent a message that didn't contain the word 'noob."
"Still, it seems kind of odd though," said Tucker. "I mean, since when has Blue Command worked in collaboration with the UNSC?"
Church shrugged; "Hell if I know. I always assumed that the Blue and Red Armies were breakaway factions or something. I mean, why have a civil war when there's a conglomeration of aliens bent on humanity's extinction?
None of them had any answer to that. It certainly didn't make much sense to be fighting a civil war when a genocidal war was being waged against you. They knew that it was only a matter of time before they volunteered or were conscripted, but they certainly hadn't expected to be put in an army that was told to "fight the Reds and not worry about the advancing Covenant."
From what Church could gather, he. Along with multiple other volunteers and conscripts had been put into military sevice at around the start of this year, their training beginning. The actual war between Red and Blue had actually started almost exactly at the same time that Reach fell. A few weeks of savage conflict, during which Church was given his own coloured armour and lost his squad on Sidewinder. Soon after arriving at Blood Gulch, he realised that the war had become far more relaxed and lazy, battles almost non-existent. And a hack that he'd preformed on a database revealed that this trend coincided almost exactly with the conclusion of Operation: First Strike.
And now, to top it off, they were being forced to co-operate with the Reds, something that they were told never to do, even in the event of Covenant arriving. Of course, that was unlikely; the war zones were located 'behind' Earth, in that it was between them and the Orion Arm, where most of the Covenant was situated.
Something was up. And for once, Church actually cared about it.
Red Team
"That's all there is to tell sir," said Sarge, having explained the set of recent occurrences.
"Private, that was one of the most outlandish stories I ever heard. And I don't think I believed a word of it."
Sarge growled; "First of all, it's absolutely true. Secondly, I'm not a private, I'm a sergeant!"
"Whatever," shrugged McClellan. "You may as well get used to being called private, because that's what I'm demoting you to."
"What the hell?"
Sarge was flabbergasted-he'd served the noble Red cause for…well, about a month, but he was as loyal to it as any soldier. Although his visor was down, Simmons seemed to be giving the impression of being shocked. Griff was laughing in joy. Debbie and Phil seemed to be assessing it calmly.
"Private, we don't have time to continue this conversation," said the admiral. "Just help private Chapel unload the shipment from the Pelican."
"Are…are you sure this is wise?" asked Simmons. "After all, a squad needs a CO to function properly. I'm sure that our current sergeant is up to the task."
The admiral gave Simmons a withering glare; "You're right about the CO, but the individual is wrong. And given that you sound like an absolute kisass, I don't think that you're a good substitute." He turned to Griff. "How'd you like to volunteer?"
Griff's spirits soared in what felt like the first time in weeks-him, a sergeant? Surely such a position would allow him to gain payback against Sarge and perhaps Simmons could actually kiss someone else's arse for once. He was about to respond affirmatively when thoughts of doubts crept into his mind;
"Er, does being a sergeant involve more work?"
"Of course."
Griff sighed, his spirits sagging again; "Then I'm afraid I'll have to pass."
"Fine. Chapel, you've been promoted to sergeant." With that, the admiral walked out, without even glancing back.
Sarge glared at his new superior; "If you think for one second that I'm going to follow the orders of a female, I can assure you that-…"
"Can it private!" Debbie had taken to her new role surprisingly well. "You can unload the pelican." She turned to face Simmons; "Am I correct in guessing that you're the arse kisser?"
"Well, I wouldn't call myself that but-…"
"Very well. You can start now."
Tucker grinned; "I'm starting to like this chick even more."
"Don't' get your hopes up puppy," came a voice. The cyan armoured soldier had walked back into the room. "I take it that you read the orders?"
"Yeah, we did," said Flowers. He took on a fatherly tone; "I'm sorry about your loss."
The Blue shrugged; "We've all endured losses, no reason to get hooked up over it. By the way, I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Lieutenant Damien Grant."
"Captain Flowers," answered the soldier of the same name. He gestured at Church and Tucker; "These two are Private Church and Private Tucker. Am I correct in guessing that you'll be joining our squad?"
Damien gave a salute; "Sir yes sir!"
Church sighed; "Great, we've got a militaristic nut job."
Tucker shrugged; "Cant' be too bad. After all, he couldn't be much worse than you."
"Aw shut up you-…"
"Attention everyone, this is Admiral McClellan speaking," came a voice over the intercom. "The fleet will be entering slipspace in approximately ten minutes. Everyone get to a cryo tube, but make sure that you're able to emerge fully combat ready."
Tucker looked faint-combat ready? That implied that they had to fight. And if they had to fight, they had to do stuff. He noticed that the orange soldier looked equally depressed.
"Alright, you heard the man!" shouted Debbie. She gestured to the crate that 'Sarge' (whether that name still applied or not was a matter for debate) and Phil had brought out of the pelican. "That crate contains a weapons cache. Arm yourself appropriately and then head for the cryo bay. Phil can show you the way." Tucker noticed that she seemed to be addressing the Blues also-teamwork was already coming into play.
"Do we go along with this?" he asked Flowers.
"Yes," said Flowers in a monotone. "We do."
Within five minutes, they'd armed themselves appropriately. They ran down the corridors that led to the cryo bay. Different thoughts were racing through each soldier's mind.
Sarge still carried his trusty M90 Shotgun, although he'd replenished his supply of shells. Although he had an inherent desire to use it against the Blues that were running alongside him, most of his anger was directed at his sergeant. It was bad enough that he'd been demoted, but for a female to be promoted to take his place? What was the world coming to?
Flowers had armed himself with a MA5B Assault Rifle. Things were definitely becoming weird, what with Blue Command allying with the Red forces. Still, he trusted their judgement. Most of his concern lay with Church and Tucker. Damien sounded like he'd been through a lot, but his privates were still green. He swore to himself that he'd ensure their safety.
Simmons had chosen a BR55 Battle Rifle. Inwardly, he was feeling uneasy. With Sarge having been demoted to private and therefore of the same rank, his role as a father figure had been diminished somewhat? And his superior was a female? He needed father figures for love and support, not mother figures.
Tucker had been forced to carry an M7 SMG, since Church had beaten him to the sniper rifle. Again. Still, he wasn't too pissed. From the sound of things, he was going to be in the company of a female for quite some time. A very appealing prospect.
Griff panted as he ran along, carrying an S2AM Sniper Rifle in his hands. He was also miserable. Although Sarge was now of equal rank, any joy he experienced was negated by the fact that from the sound of things he was going into battle, and therefore having to do stuff. Life really sucked.
Church, to his pleasure had beaten Tucker to the S2AM Sniper Rifle that he was holding. However, he was also fairly disconcerted. He actually felt passionate about the whole situation and his misgivings about Blue Command weren't ceasing. This wasn't' like him at all. Very disconcerting.
Debbie was in a very good mood. Promoted to lead an entire Red Army Squad! She had her misgivings about the former sergeant, but discarded them. Cocking her M7 SMG she prepared for the likely battle to come.
Damien ran down the corridors resolutely, a portable M247A1 GPMG in his hands. It felt good to be back with a squad, even if he was no longer in charge. He had his misgivings about the two privates but the captain seemed competent enough.
Phil, as usual, hadn't been assertive enough to take a weapon, letting the others beat him to it. As a consequence, he was stuck with his usual M6D pistol, something that was merely a sidearm for all the other soldiers running with him. He sighed inwardly-from the sound of things bad stuff was going to come down, and no doubt that he'd have to take the brunt of it.
The nine soldiers raced down the corridors to the cryo bay, once against each other but now united in purpose. Well, maybe "united" was too strong a word. Perhaps "forced to work with each other" was a better choice of terminology. Still, they were able to move with a purpose, at least it seemed that way to Admiral McClellan on the ship's bridge. He was watching them via surveillance camera, giving all the other soldiers on the ship the same treatment.
Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of Red Army soldiers fighting a war for no reason that they could ascertain. The admiral could though, even if he was one of the few that did, one of the few of the Red Army (with no doubt equally few knowing the truth in the Blue Army) who the truth behind the Red vs. Blue War. He could only hope that it had paid off. Quite a few lives had been lost in the initial stages. It was hard to believe that the war actually benefited the UNSC.
"Shouldn't you be heading for the cryo bay?" asked a voice. McClellan turned to the source, seeing the holographic representation of the ship's AI materialise; Ash. "The fleet will be entering slipspace in approximately five minutes."
McClellan sighed-Ash was always to the point and he wasn't even a 'dumb' AI. He'd chosen a crimson colured avatar that represented a male teenager with sandy hair, supposedly having based his appearance on the long deceased Spartan-034. Since AIs were often called "ghosts", perhaps it was appropriate in a sense. The Spartan IIs deserved to be honoured, unlike the many incompetent oafs that made up the Red and Blue Armies.
"Yes, yes, I'm going," he sighed, heading towards an elevator that would take him directly to one of the cryo bays. Ash watched him go, waiting for the elevator to decend. As soon as it was out of sight he activated the internet, heading for his favourite sites. Humanity was doomed, but that still didn't stop him from enjoying himself.
Red Fleet
As one, the numerous ships entered slipspace. Carriers, cruisers, frigates, all entered the realm that was called slipspace. Every ship was accounted for. Except one however. No-one had noticed, but a single, unadorned frigate had joined their formation, entering the slipspace vortex.
XXXX
Date: November 2nd, 2552
Subject: Red Army Fleet
Location: Sol System
Status: En route from Mars
Destination: Earth
Priority: Alpha
Sarge looked out one of the windows of the mobile station, staring at the rapidly larger growing object that was Earth. Sarge was never one for melodrama, but he couldn't help but appreciate how it had an element of beauty. Still, much of that probably came from having been stationed in a dirt canyon.
However, its beauty was tainted, eclipsed by the numerous arcs of plasma fire intermingling with more conventional weaponry. Even more obvious than this was the fact that there were hundreds of ships engaged with each other above the planet, not to mention the numerous defence stations.
"You ok Sarge?" Griff walked over, still recovering from the freezer burn. He'd been too lazy to take off his armour and had paid the price.
"Yeah. You still calling me Sarge?" he asked.
Griff shrugged; "May as well. I mean, calling you by your actual name would indicate that we're friends or something."
"Which we're not."
"Exactly."
Just then an alarm sounded, followed by the voice of the ship's AI; "Alert, alert. Enemy ships inbound. ETA is five minutes. All staff report to battle stations. All soldiers stand by to repel boarders. This is NOT a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill."
Griff looked at Sarge; "What now sir?"
Sarge didn't' answer at first, instead locking and loading his shotgun. "Griff," he said. "It's time for us to finish the fight. After that, we can get back to fighting the Blues."
"Great," sighed Griff miserably. "Looking forward to it." Still, even he could understand the situation.
It was time to finish the fight.
Red and Blue: The Battle for Earth
Finish the Fight
2007
Cockbites.