Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. I do own Marly, the awesomely mildly insane ex-Freelancer.
Episode 20: Realization
Grif didn't know why, but Sarge had him up on the side of the jeep, looking over toward the Blues... Oh wait! Sarge was always spying on the Blues! And all of his spying plans were super crazy! Ha! That's why! Hold on... "Aw carp. Uh, hey, they have a guy fixing their tank," Grif reported, spotting a blue guy crouching on the tank with little sparks flying about through the scope of their spare sniper rifle, since there was no way they were getting the good one off Eagle. Why Eagle wasn't climbing on top of the jeep and spying on the Blues, Grif doubted he'd ever understand, but there you have it.
"Impossible! Our intelligence clearly states..." Sarge began.
"We have intelligence?" Eagle asked, sounding highly shocked. Grif and Simmons chuckled under their breath, skillfully ignoring the secondary meaning as that would be an insult to themselves. Sometimes, Eagle could dish out some amazing sarcasm.
"That the only soldiers in the canyon with mechanical training are that dead Freelancer and Lopez," Sarge continued on, ignoring the sniper completely. Simmons twitched slightly. So, no-one knew he had mechanical training? Wait... what about Grif? He shot a side long look toward the other soldier, who was looking straight at him. "Oh, wait a minute."
"Sarge, are you thinking what I'm thinking? Lopez runs away. The jeep starts driving itself. And suddenly there's a new guy on the Blue team?" Simmons asked, thinking he was putting the pieces together.
"Yes Simmons, I am. Quite obviously the Blue team has constructed some kind of diabolical mind control ray beam that they used on Lopez, and now he has to do their evil Blue bidding!" Sarge hypothesized. Simmons barely refrained from face-palming while Grif jumped down from the Warthog.
"Or, since he's a robot, maybe they just reprogrammed him," the orange soldier offered, which was pretty logical for Blood Gulch. However, it was one of those odd times where the truth was more outlandish than any of the rumors.
"Or maybe, that Blue guy who got killed by the tank came back as a ghost and now he's possessing Lopez's body. That could also explain why Sarge went nuts when we had the prisoner. The Blue ghost probably possessed him too. And the jeep going nuts was probably just a weird set of coincidences while the guy learned how to use Lopez's body," Eagle offered. When he was done, the other members of Red team could only stare at him in shock, confusion, and that weird emotion you feel when the only thought going through your head is 'what the heck did that guy just say?'
/*/
Flowdie blinked, staring at Eagle himself. "Wait... Marley... isn't that basically what happened?"
"Eh, Caboose isn't the only one who gets things. Doughnut might be an idiot later on, or would have been, but he got things too. Sometimes. This... is one of those times," the woman replied, shrugging.
"Huh. Well. Bully for him then."
/*/
Simmons said the only thing he really could at that moment. "I think I like the ray beam idea better."
"Yeah rookie, despite how well that explains Sarge going all weird, Lopez saying that the mean lady was trying to kill us with a tank, and all... it sounds a little dumb. Plus, I really don't want to believe ghosts exist. That's... a little creepy. I've seen enough traumatizing things in this war without adding ghosts," Grif said, causing Simmons to twitch and add another tick mark in the 'Dex is Grif' column. Oh, how he hated that mental tally, but he couldn't seem to stop keeping track.
"Oh? Really now? So... you want to believe in mind control over a ghost? How is mind control less creepy than a ghost?" Eagle asked, crossing his arms and leaning back on his left leg slightly. Grif scoffed, though he did feel a little uncomfortable.
"I don't know! It just is!" Eagle hummed and Rick could picture only so well the smirk that just had to be playing on his lips, those cornflower blue eyes narrowed and calculating. It was a surprisingly intimidating mental image. For some odd reason, Sarge had already gone back into the base. Weird. Then again, this is Sarge we're talking about, so... Yeah. Less said the better.
"Is it now? How very strange," Eagle commented. Simmons sighed.
"Hawaii has a lot of ghost stories. Not a lot of them are benign. In fact, most of them are the things nightmares are made of. True, war is full of nightmare material, but it's the kind of nightmare material you can shoot... most of the time. And this is a Blue ghost you're talking about. That's not likely to be kind. Which would you rather have, a ghost inside your mind that cannot be removed without physical harm, or a control ray that can be reversed or broken when you get your hands on the main controls?" he said, making placating motions toward the rookie. Eagle sighed and dropped his arms, standing solidly on both legs once again.
"Okay. Fair enough. I guess I just haven't been a soldier long enough and haven't gotten to the point that you lot have. Honestly, for a backwater canyon, you guys are paranoid," he said before he headed back into the base. Grif harrumphed, then turned to Simmons.
"So. Unofficial mechanical training huh?" he asked.
"Why would you think that?" Simmons asked, crossing his arms defensively. Grif shrugged.
"Oh, no reason. But Sarge couldn't have been the one to give you that radio to fix, since he doesn't seem to think you're capable of something like that. And since I know you're capable of that, and a lot more besides, but the Sarge doesn't, it begs the question... where did you get your training, and why isn't it listed in your file?" he replied, nonchalant, conversational tone never changing. Simmons fidgeted slightly before he huffed.
"Oh shut up. Like you don't have unlisted skills yourself," he countered. Grif snorted.
"Oh, nice comeback! What do you know about my 'unlisted skills?' Nothing, that's what! And how would I list them anyway? Storyteller, parent, short order cook?" Simmons winced. Okay, Grif had not taken that one well. He didn't think he'd ever heard Grif speak with such venom.
"You're right. I'm sorry. Yes, I have unofficial mechanical training. I took on online course, found some scraps of junk, and did some at-base 'labs.' I don't even have a certificate," Simmons said, not noticing that Grif had frozen, as in, completely stopped moving. Thoughts were swirling around the orange soldier's head, but the one that stood out was a memory from over three months ago. Simmons, sitting on the roof, messing with a radio, muttering about 'Flowdie' and bullets in uncomfortable places. Flowdie. Flowdie was that guy on The Ghost with the cyan accents.
"Marley," Grif breathed, eyes wide. Simmons froze, slowly turning toward his partner.
"What did you say?" he asked, silently hoping Grif hadn't said what he thought he had said.
"Marley," Grif repeated. "Marley's the one who set up your training, isn't she? She left you the radio."
"Why would you..."
"Flowdie," Grif stated, as though it answered everything. Simmons jerked in surprise. "That day, not long after Eagle got here, I found you on the roof, fiddling with that busted up old radio, muttering about putting bullets in uncomfortable places... in regards to Flowdie. Now, there's only one Flowdie I know of, and he's a gray armored Spartan with cyan accents on board The Ghost. And The Ghost is the home of a crazy black armored Spartan called Marley. And Marley, loves to pick up 'strays' and train them. Make them into something. She did it to me, and I'm guessing, she did it to you. Am I right?" the orange armored soldier pressed, not noticing he had been stalking closer to Simmons until the maroon soldier flipped him over his shoulder and held a knife to his throat. "Ah. Agent Maroon. It's so obvious, it's a wonder I didn't figure it out before now," Dex mused calmly.
"Then I guess it's time to stop deluding myself, huh... Dex," Rick replied. Dex chuckled.
"Now I get why Marley kept telling me Blood Gulch was an illusion. She got us to pull the wool over our own eyes, didn't she?" he said. Rick snorted.
"You mean a second layer of wool, right?" he asked.
"Ah. She told you about the simulation as well then?" Dex asked, getting a nod from his comrade. "Yeah, it's a right mess, but it's our mess."
"Think Sarge and Eagle are Red Agents as well?" Rick asked.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Sarge is Red, but Eagle..."
"Sniper."
"Ah. Yeah. They're totally a part of this. But let's not let them know that we know. Let them out themselves... like I apparently did," Dex said. Rick chuckled.
"I was suspecting you for a while, though from the sound of it, you were suspecting something was off with me as well," he said. Dex shrugged as well he could from the ground and with a knife pointed at him. "Oh! Here," Rick said, sheathing his knife and holding a hand out toward Dex. The downed soldier took it with a nod and hauled himself up.
"I was suspicious from the first day I got my Agent armor. Orange. Maroon. Red. Burgundy. There were no analogs for Burgundy in the canyon at the time, but you and Sarge? I suspected, but you played your part so well... I begin seriously considering I wasn't the only Agent in the canyon after about half a year, yes, but it took me a while to connect the dots. Until now, to be honest," he confessed. Rick shrugged.
"Even the best slip up sometimes, yeah? What gave me away? Before I put a knife to your throat that is?"
"Yeah. And it was how... at ease you were. Especially under pressure. When things started getting too real... the sharp, precise, deadly, yet witty Maroon I knew showed. I'm guessing that was what outed me as well. Any idea how tiring it is to act like a lazy, incompetent, should-still-be-called-rookie not-a-soldier is? No? It's doggone exhausting!" Dex ranted. Rick stood in the 'I'm-giving-you-the-eyebrow' stance. "Now let's see what our eagle eyed sniper is up to," Dex suggested before sauntering toward the base.
"Stop walking so much like you. You'll get Frank suspicious," Rick admonished. Dex groaned, but slouched down and began to trudge. "Yeah. Much better."
"Stop sounding so much like yourself. Red'll wonder where his personal Yes Man went off to," the weapons specialist groused. Rick sighed, but didn't say a word. Dex had a point, as loath as Rick was to admit it. 'Darn you, younger self!'
/*/
Sarge assembled his troops on the roof of his base. "Ladies, it has come to my attention that we are in need of a new robot type person. Who here wants to volunteer?" he asked.
"Are we going on a trip? I love trips! Can we play I Spy? And the license plate game?" Eagle asked excitedly. If Dex hadn't known better, he'd have thought the kid was an idiot. But he did know better. It was all on purpose.
"Shut up, Eagle Eye," Dex requested.
"Please?" persisted Eagle.
"Uh, sir?" asked Rick.
"Or Punch Buggy?" continued Eagle.
"Why won't this guy shut up?" muttered Dex while Eagle went one with,
"Or... or the alphabet with the signs game?"
"What exactly do you mean by volunteer?" Rick said, finishing his question.
"Quite obviously, we are without a robot or any other type of recruit with mechanical training or dexterity. Therefore, the only solution is to turn one of you into a robot and/or freaky cyborg thing," Sarge answered. Of course, this didn't sit well with Rick and Dex.
"Wait, what?"
"Have you gone crazy?"
"What the heck?"
"That's the stupidest..."
"Cool!" said Eagle. Rick and Dex slowly turned to who they had, not too long ago, considered a possible candidate for Agent Burgundy. "I vote for Simmons!" Dex and Rick continued to stare at the pink armored solider. A single thought was running through their minds. 'Way to throw Rick/me under the bus there buddy.'
"I'm told the cyborg operation is a relatively simple procedure, really," Sarge said, turning away from his team.
"Is he talking to us?" asked Rick, turning to share a look with Dex.
"Where the mostly useless guts and slimy goo of the human body are replaced with the no doubt superior guts and oily goo of a robot," Sarge carried on, as though Rick hadn't spoken at all. Under his helmet, Rick indulged in a deathly glare.
"I'm confused," Grif muttered dazedly.
"If you're lucky, you may even get a copper rectum," Sarge finished.
"Uh... couple of things there boss man," Dex said, stepping forward slightly, "first off, 'guts and slimy goo' is not very scientific and really doesn't fill me with much confidence in your surgical skills. Second, ew. And third... well. Simmons? You want to help me out with this one?" he finished, looking toward the maroon soldier. Rick nodded and took over.
"Sir, wouldn't it be better if we didn't do that instead of doing it?"
"Dude! So not what I meant!" Dex exclaimed over Sarge's,
"Good thinking Simmons. But no, I like the removing the guts thing so I think we stick with that."
"Yeah, I hate to agree with the suck up, but it really would be better if we didn't do that. See, Simmons doesn't need the operation. He's already gone off the books and obtained mechanical training," Dex said. Rick sighed.
"Which, if I hadn't thought you were joking, I would have brought up before you said you actually liked the idea of removing my internal organs," he said.
"Wait! Do you mean to tell me..." Sarge began, only for Rick to cut him off.
"Yes sir. I really do have mechanical training. And yes, it's completely off the books," Rick stated. Dex noticed Eagle twitch off too the side. He grinned.
"Hey, you wanna ask us what other, unlisted, skills we have Sarge? Like... trick shooting? Or staff fighting?" the weapons specialist asked. Oh yes! That was a definite twitch! Oh man, Eagle really hadn't had enough time to prepare for this, had he? Heh. This is gonna be fun.
"No. I want Simmons to get to work fixing the Warthog ASAP!" Sarge barked. Rick and Dex shared a look, then shrugged and went their separate ways.
/*/
Flowdie listened with rapt attention as Tex told the Blues about O'Malley. "Huh. So that's what happened to Caboose."
"And here I was, thinking you had believed me this whole time," Marley said dryly.
"It's just... some how... more real when it's said like that by Tex herself. And the whole 'I'm gonna kill it' thing... how's that gonna work?"
"It's not," Marley said grimly. "Remember? Doc gets O'Malley in his head after this whole kerfuffle. Honestly, I feel a little sorry for him. However, as tragic as it is, there's nothing we can do. O'Malley is actually rather compatible with Doc. The medic's pacifistic nature almost seems to calm O'Malley's rampant sadism and need for violence. Sure, it makes for one killer split personality, but it kinda... almost... works out," she added. Flowdie sighed.
"I hate it when you make sense like that," he moaned. Marley laughed mirthlessly.
"Me too, Flowdie. Me too."
/*/
Sarge, in his 'infinite wisdom,' decided that Eagle and Dex should guard Rick while he worked on the Warthog. They'd tried to argue, but it was pointless. Sarge was totally sold on the Blood Gulch illusion... and infected with the madness associated with the post. "I sure hope Sarge is right about it taking them months to get the tank back up and running, cause if I see that thing coming, I'm totally freaking out," Eagle said, sitting on a rock. Dex scoffed.
"You've got bullets that can punch through a Warthog's shielding and take out the engine block in your gun Frank. What have you got to be worried about?" he said, casually using Eagle's Project Red nick-name. Eagle stiffened for a moment, then relaxed with a sigh.
"I was right," he said, shifting slightly. Dex grinned, noticing he'd switched his speech pattern.
"Huh. Not as stupid as I thought rookie," he remarked in good humor.
"Oh go easy on the kid!" Rick called from where he was working, though both Frank and Dex could hear he was playing along.
"And why should I? Kid can beat me!" Dex countered with an audible grin.
"Yeah... on the long range but you get inside that the kid's pretty terrible," Rick countered, brutally honest.
"Rick. So nice to know you care," Eagle remarked, bouncing a pebble in his palm. Dex chuckled.
"Uh-oh! Look out Rick, Eagle Eye's got a pebble!" he said. Eagle snorted.
"Yeah, and I know how to use it," he said, flicking his wrist and sending the small stone straight at Dex's forehead.
"Ow," the Agent remarked dryly as the small projectile pinged off his helmet. Eagle sighed.
"That would have hurt if it'd been bigger," he groused. Dex grinned and looped an arm around the youngest member of Red Team.
"Oh, I know," he said 'bracingly.' Eagle sighed, then snapped his head up in shock.
"Is that... what I think it is?" he asked, fear heavy in his voice. Dex looked up and saw...
"Oh Godiva. It's Blue Team's Tank come to kill us all!"
"Oh Godiva! It's true! I'm totally freaking out! I'm freaking out!" Eagle shrieked, dancing around on the spot, shaking his head, looking for escapes routes, finding them, then discarding them. Dex sighed and Rick shook his head.
"I blame you for this," he told his partner. Dex sighed.
"Yeah. Don't blame you for that. So, how we gonna play this?"
"Um..."
/*/
"Please, take evasive action," Shelia told Tucker, who had the misfortune of driving the large tank. Without the tutorial program. Yeah, he just knew this was going to end in tears. And possibly massive property damages.
"You take evasive action!" Tucker countered, panicking ever so slightly as Red base loomed up ahead of him. "Hey Lopez! Help me out! Can't you talk to her?"
"Sorry. I'm not good at talking to beautiful women. I get sweaty," Spanish!Lopez told the cyan soldier.
/*/
Meanwhile, Eagle had decided that, he was just going to do his level best to annoy his fellow Agents. "Well, comrades, it looks like this is the end for us," he said. "Since we're going to die anyway, there's..."
"Oh for the love of deep fried shrimp! We are not going to die!" Dex said suddenly, standing up and dragging the other two with him. "RUN! RUN LIKE THE BATS OF HELL ARE AT YOUR HEELS!" he bellowed, taking off for the base. Eagle and Rick didn't even hesitate to share a look over Dex replacing 'dogs' with 'bats.' They just booked it. They heard what sounding suspiciously like a tank running over the Warthog and Lopez swearing in Spanish. To be perfectly honest, none of the Agents could tell if that last part was their imagination, or reality. And frankly, they didn't want to find out. They all knew, from one experience or another, that you never want to anger an android. It dose not end well. Ever.
"Good golly Miss Molly, what is going on out there?" Eagle heard Sarge asking as he and Rick ran into the main gathering room of the base.
"Sir, the Blues are attacking with their tank! Th... they blew up the warthog. Again," Eagle reported, wincing slightly as he was reminded that their jeep had already been kinda blown up.
"I wonder what jeeps ever did to those guys?" Rick muttered musingly from somewhere to Eagle's left. The sniper thought he heard Dex snickering, but didn't bother trying to check. Darn full face helmets! Never let you know if the other guy is grinning or not.
"The three of us just barely had enough time to get out of there. Right guys?" the not-such-a-rookie asked, looking over his shoulder at the senior Agents.
"Yeah... but I had to snap you out of your 'I'm totally freaking out, we're all gonna die!' haze. Way to go Frankie. Way. To. Go," Dex drawled. Eagle pouted at him under his helmet, though he almost immediately shot a glance over at Sarge to see if he caught the name. He didn't appear to. Sadness. He grinned as a new thought crossed his mind. 'Oh, this... is gonna be fun~!'
/*/
"Gosh darn it, this isn't going very well at all," Tucker lamented, staring at the concrete wall of Red Base, into which he'd crashed trying to stop the tank. "You okay Lopez?" he asked the resident robot. He got a whole lot of Spanish as a result. Had he known how to speak Spanish, he would have known that Lopez had told him that, 'Lopez the Heavy is impervious to injury.' Still, somehow, he got the gist of it. "Whatever, you big show off," Tucker remarked. "How about you Sheila? You still online?"
"Affirmative," the tank replied.
"Ok, we should be close enough to hack into their radio frequency," he said before turning to Lopez, "Lopez, get inside Sheila and do your business," he finished.
"What?" queried Sheila while Lopez remarked in rather flustered sounding Spanish,
"I'm getting very sweaty!"
"Oh my Godiva, remind me to hose you two off when we get back to base," Tucker said, turning back toward Sheila.
/*/
Meanwhile, inside the base, Sarge was... being Sarge. "Well, this is a devil of a picadillo," he said. "Simmons, get on the squawk box and tell command..." he said, but he didn't get further than that as their radios came on with the unmistakeable sound of someone scanning the airwaves followed by the voice of the slightly more annoying Blue guy.
"Hello, Red guys? Are you there?" the voice asked.
"What in buttery goodness? Who is this?" Sarge asked, understandably confused.
"It's me, Tucker. I'm one of the Blue guys. Look, I don't have time to explain, but I need all of you guys to shut off your radios right now," the voice, which Eagle suddenly realized was the guy who had appeared out of a teleporter covered in black gook who was named Tucker, said. Sarge replied in typical Sarge fashion.
"Boy, it'll be a cold day in hell before I take orders from you."
"Look, it's really important, alright?" Tucker pleaded. Eagle frowned. Why would it be? Still, they'd need to change their frequency, now that Tucker had hacked it. "Normally I'd just shoot at you guys and steal your girlfriends, but today's different! I need you to trust me on this."
"Well, I may have spoke too soon. That is an interesting and well-thought-out, not to mention clever and timely might I add, proposition. Simmons, would you care to deliver our rebuttal?" Sarge replied. Rick cleared his throat, wondering what tactic Tucker would try now that Sarge had turned him down.
"Suck it Blue!" he said. Eagle, having never heard this 'rebuttal' until now, took it and ran with it, thoroughly enjoying driving yet another Blood Gultcher spare.
"Yeah, suck it Blue. Now that's what I call an old-school zinger. In your face, Blue dude, in your face!" They heard Tucker sigh, then say,
"Oh man."
"Hey... Sarge?" Dex said, his helmet under his arm, radio disabled. Sarge turned to him, silently asking him what in tarnation did he want? "Ever think that, maybe, there's a reason to the madness?"
"What?!" Sarge asked. Rick blinked, but took off his helmet as well.
"What are you thinking, Dexter?" he asked. Dex shrugged.
"Besides how weird it is for you to call me by my first name? Something has this guy spooked. Spooked enough to have him try to warn us about... something. Maybe... we should take this seriously," he said. Rick chuckled, then froze.
"Wait... Dexter is your first name?"
"You didn't know?" Dex asked, blinking.
"No I... I was just... Huh. Fancy that," Rick replied.
"So your name is... Richard?" the orange solider probed. His maroon teammate nodded. "Huh. What da ya know?"
"Darn it! These guys are not backing down," they heard Tucker mutter, not hearing Rick and Dex's conversation. "Lopez, it looks like we're going to have to go to plan B."
"Si," they heard Lopez's metallic voice say, followed by 'yoink, teindo' and a beat... before he began to 'sing.'
"What in Betty's bloomers is on the radio now?" Sarge demanded. "It sounds like the feral cry of a retarded Mexican Sasquatch!"
"Turn it off! Turn it off please! Godiva, make it stop!" Rick moaned, hearing it come through Sarge's helmet. Dex could hear it from Eagle Eye's radio, and he liked it about as much as Rick. He turned to Eagle with a deathly glare.
"Frank... I swear on Oreos and Krispy Kreame doughnuts... if you even think about liking this crime against music, this... travesty... I will not hesitate to pound you into the ground before throwing you to Marley to be her personal punching bag," the man growled before the rookie could open his mouth. Eagle Eye let out a small 'eep!' and switched off his radio.
"That's it! Can't take anymore!" Sarge said, finally caving. "Everybody! Switch off your radio!"
"But Sarge..." began Eagle.
"That's an order private," Sarge ground out.
"You're the only one who hasn't switched off his radio," the rookie said, pulling off his helmet and pouting at his CO. Sarge stammered for a moment before switching off his radio and removing his helmet. Seeing the uncovered heads of the Reds, Tucker ran off laughing. "It worked!" he said happily, looking down at Lopez and Sheila. "Hey, turn off your radio, quick!" he ordered. The robot quickly shut off the music, switched off his radio, and got back inside the tank.
/*/
While Tucker was returning to Blue Base to see how things had gone for Tex, Church, and Caboose, Doc was waking up with the mother of all headaches in the cave system in the canyon wall. Vic from Command was jabbering in his ear. Something about... twenty cc's of what the heck is going on. He only got the 'what's happening down there?' bit. Honestly, he was of the opinion that Vic just liked to hear himself talk. "What happened?" Doc asked with a yawn. His radio scratched and Vic's distorted voice spoke in his ear.
"Hey, you tell me dude. One minute we're talking about a hole in the wall, the next thing I know you turned into Grumps McGurt. It sounded like you needed a lozenge, threatened to eat my children. Not very cool dude," he said. Doc winced. That... really didn't sound like him. At all. He knew what cannibalism did to people who practiced it. It wasn't anything good. And children? From a guy he had no problem with and had never met in person? Yeah, no.
"Jeez, did I really? I'm sorry. Something went wrong with my radio and I heard this weird beeping, honking..." he said, only to get cut off by Vic going on about how there was no offense taken and he didn't have kids. Along with... a lot of stuff Doc really didn't need to know. Finally, he got a word in edgewise. "Look, I found something weird here at Blood Gulch Outpost number one."
"Roger that, what did you find?" Vic asked.
"It's... it's like a... it's like a thing," Doc said, already mentally cursing at his sluggish mind. Whatever had knocked him out had messed him up good. If Vic hadn't told him he'd acted oddly, he'd have thought someone had mugged him. Only... the pain in his head wasn't like blunt force trauma. It was... everywhere at once. Of course, Vic wasn't helping.
"It's like a thing? Okay dude, thank you for the update. I'll be sure to alert the chief of staff."
"Sorry."
"Move us to Def-con one."
"I'm just still a little dazed. It's a big thing. It's purple. It's a... it's a big purple thing."
"Use your words dude," Vic said, sounding more patronizing than sarcastic now. Doc frowned.
"Look, I don't know. It looks like some kind of alien artifact. Do the aliens have, like, a home base or something here?" he asked, only realizing how stupid it was to ask the man in the spaceship if there was an alien base on the planet goodness alone knew how far away. Seriously, whatever got him got him good.
"I don't know dude. Why don't I just consult my extraterrestrial travel guide for ya?" Vic asked, now half way between sarcastic and patronizing. Doc decided, he didn't like when people used that tone with him. "Oh look, they had a great series of alien bed and breakfasts there. Lucky you."
"Never mind," Doc said with a sigh. He didn't know why he bothered with calling command. Vic was, to put it bluntly, a jerk. "I'll just figure it out myself."
"Nothing about big purple things though," Vic continued on, as though he hadn't heard Doc. "Maybe it's some kind of alien vehicle." Doc switched off the radio, ended the conversation.
"Man, that guy is such a jerk. The next time he talks to me like that, I'm going to tell him to go straight to H E double hockey sticks," he muttered to himself, then immediately felt guilty. "Oh, I really shouldn't talk like that. That's not very nice," he said, then suddenly, it wasn't him talking anymore.
"If I ever meet him, I'm taking his eyes as souvenirs."
"Whoa, that was unlike me. I must be stressed out. Time for yoga!" Doc remarked, weirded out by the experience and trying to find his way back to normalcy.
/*/
Back at Red Base, Dex was having some fun with Eagle. "I wonder if there's anyone who could jump from the floor to the roof," he said. The sniper scoffed.
"I bet you I can!" he shot back.
"I bet you can't."
"What are you two talkn' about?!" Sarge asked.
"Oh nothing, just some male bonding stuff," Dex said airily. Sarge looked between Dex and Eagle, then shrugged.
"Alright. Carry on!" he said, then continued on his way.
"I bet you I can make it," Eagle said. Dex grinned under his helmet.
"Bet you can't~!"
"Five bucks says I can," Eagle challenged. Dex whipped out five dollars and held out his hand, into which Eagle slapped his five dollars. Dex went to the roof while Eagle prepared for his first jump.
"Alright. Try it!" Dex called down to him. Eagle nodded and jumped. And jumped. And again.
"Up! Up!" he chanted, as though that would get him more height. Dex shook his head, chuckling at the rookie.
"Eagle, there's no way you can jump that high," he said, laughing mentally at the rookie.
"Yes. I can," Eagle rebutted, jumping again. "Yes I can!"
"What the heck is he doing?" Rick asked Dex, drawn by the sound.
"Losing a bet," Dex replied matter of factually. Eagle chose that moment to let out a groan of disappointment.
"Aw, I almost got it that time. Are you sweating yet sucker?" he asked. Dex scoffed.
"No... wait wait wait... yes, but only because of how stinking hot it is here. Keep trying, maybe try flapping your arms," he said. Rick shook his head at the orange soldier.
"Dex... you're crazy... you know that... right?" he said. Dex chuckled darkly.
"Oh, I know all right. But you know, we're all a little mad here... right?" Rick shook his head yet again.
"You aren't smoking in your helmet... are you?" he asked out of curiosity. Dex chuckled, turning halfway back toward the still jumping Eagle.
"Nah. I... actually haven't smoked since Marley picked me up. Probably because all my cigarettes mysteriously disappeared in the night. Weird... huh?" he said, amusement in his tone.
"Hum. Perhaps Marley stole them," Rick said. Dex chuckled.
"Sounds like something she'd do," he agreed.
"Yeah. Say... do you actually eat as much as Sarge thinks you do?" Rick asked, truly curious. To his great surprise, Dex busted out laughing.
"Nah, I just like messing with him. I keep a bag of snacks in my pack just so I can pull something new out every time Sarge comes stomping over to me. It's really quite amusing, even if I can't see his face. Oh! I bet it's priceless!" the weapons expert said. Rick shook his head at the man.
"That's almost as bad as Eagle's purposeful annoyance."
"No, ya don't say?" Dex exclaimed mockingly. Rick sighed.
"Right. It's the same basic idea, isn't it?"
"Yep!" *CRASH BANG SMASH *
"Ow! Hey! Who left the Grif-Ball gear out where someone could trip over it?! I think I broke something," Eagle called up from where he'd fallen. "Hey Simmons..."
"OI! If anyone's a medic here, it's me!" Dex called down to the rookie. Eagle gulped as he envisioned the amber glare Dex had to be giving him.
"You guys give me a head ache," Rick moaned.
"Grif, Simmons the Mechanic, I just got off the horn with command. I'm afraid we have a situation," Sarge said, coming up behind his two senior Privates.
"Aw, don't tell me they canceled the holiday party again, those cheap skates! All I wanted was one night of carefree dancing but no~! I ask you, when is it going to be Simmons' turn? When?!" Rick ranted. Dex was torn between a 'are you an idiot?' silence and a 'dude, what?' silence. He was also torn between whether or not to laugh. He ended up somewhere in the middle.
"Uh, actually, the problem is with Lopez," Sarge said after sharing a quick look with Dex.
"Don't tell me, the consulate general from Spanish land is coming, and without Lopez, we don't have anyone to translate. Unless... Rick! Can you speak Spanish?" Dex said.
"One, there's no such thing as Spanish land, you idiot. And two, no. I do not speak Spanish, though I can usually tell if the conversation is going in a 'I'm not going to shoot you' way or an 'if you don't freaking shut up and give me all your money I will blow your brains out' kind of way," Rick responded.
"Duly noted, duly noted," Dex said with a nod. Sarge was left there wondering... what the heck? "But Spanish land is too real. They have those... those water slides. And all that salsa."
"No. They don't," Rick countered smoothly.
"Well, guess you would know," Dex rejoined smugly.
"What? What's that supposed to mean?!" Rick asked, irritated.
"Well, you are of... Latino persuasion," Dex said.
"For the last time, I'm DUTCH. IRISH!" Rick ground out. Dex shrugged.
"Hey, don't let your fiery Latin temper get out of control. I was just trying to make a point," he said.
"Can it idiot!" Sarge shouted, trying to regain control of the situation. "We've got a pot on the front burner, and it's a boiling over! I've just learned that command implanted Lopez with secret plans detailing the next phase of our operations. Do you have any idea what this means?!" he added, explaining what had him in such a state... not that he wasn't always like that, but eh. Details.
"I.. uh... uh... Rick? You wanna take this one?" Dex asked, turning to his companion.
"Dex... did you honestly decide not to listen?" Rick asked. Dex grinned, though Rick couldn't quite make it out. Man, he loved messing with people. "If you weren't listening, what the heck were you thinking about?"
"Certainly not water slides, I can tell you that much. Or salsa," Dex said. Rick groaned, but Sarge decided to carry on, thinking his soldiers were always like this. Which, they kinda were... when not on missions. He also conveniently decided to ignore them using different names.
"What it means is that if we don't get back Lopez before the Blues uncover our secret plans, we'll be up pooper creek without a paddle," Sarge 'explained.' Dex couldn't refrain from commenting with a loud,
"Ew! Ih... that's gross!"
"I'm talking lost in a forest of filth without a compass! Swimming in a river of sick with no floaties on! Driving blind in a..."
"Sir! I think we get the picture," Rick interrupted, "the very, very, disturbing picture." 'That is also quite inaccurate. I'd like to believe we could wipe out the Blues quite easily if needed,' the Agent thought to himself, but wisely stayed quiet.
"Ya sure? I could go on," Sarge offered.
"I'm sure ya could, but no," Dex intervened. "Really."
/*/
"Looking a little green there, Flowdie. Need a barf bag?" Marley asked, popping open a soda, a wet towel draped over her shoulders to keep her white shirt dry after her shower. Flowdie shook his head and took the offered water.
"Red's just... a little..."
"Touched in the head? Disturbed? Wacked out? Sorry mate, but we're all that way. War has a way of messing with your head," Marley said, sinking into a chair and putting up her heels.
"Yeah. I know. But... still!"
"Um."
"You ever feel like... we're missing something?"
"All the time, Flowdie. All the time."
"Tha..."
"It's called 'innocence,' Flowdie. And we lost ours long ago."
"Not what I meant. And you know it."
"I know. But it still fits," Marley remarked, one of her dark moods striking. Flowdie sighed and trooped off to his bunk. "So does 'sanity,'" the woman said sadly to the cool, still air, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she settled in for a good rest, watching the poor Reds and Blues down below.
/?/
A/N: Okay, so... this is a monster chapter. Really, it is. And I was using Netfilx as a reference instead of the youtube webisodes for most of it, so I just kept going and... yeah. If you're wondering why there's not such a gap where the Blue's action should be, I'm laboring under the impression that the Blues are doing their stuff at the same time, or nearly, as the Reds. So... yeah. Anyway, hope you liked it and stay tuned for more Project Red... stuff. Because, it's already craziness, being Red vs Blue and... I'm gonna stop and go watch some Hawaii 5-0 now. Mahalo and Aloha!
A/N 2: Ah, the revelation of the truth behind Project Red. This one was so much fun to write. Minor edits, mostly spelling. 8/18/16