GATE: Red vs Blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Red VS Blue or GATE
Regular Speak
Thoughts and Flashbacks
Demonic or Animalistic Speak
Demonic or Animalistic Thoughts
Editor: Dragon_Wizard91
"What The Actual Fuck Was THAT!?" Grif yelled, the Warthog having bounced off the bloody ground briefly from the resounding crash.
"Grif, watch where you're going!" Simmons yelled in panic as they almost hit a wall.
"Sue me! The mud-blood is starting to make it hard as hell to steer!" Grif countered, managing to skid and turn at the last moment.
"Hey, nice JK reference!" Simmons congratulated with a chuckle as he re-aimed the machine gun.
"Why are you bringing Kennedy into this?!" Grif yelled, using his pistol to shoot an imp hanging onto his leg. "Don't get grabby, pal!"
"I meant...oh, never mind!" Simmons groaned in defeat as he started shooting again.
"Omega, that one of yours?" Sarge asked curiously, reloading as the maniac AI kept the enemy back with his rocket launcher.
"Of course not you buffoon!" Omega yelled as blood splattered onto his helmet. "Note to self, install visor-wipers," he commented with a drawl.
"Besides, the invasion wasn't going to be for another ten weeks!" Doc pointed out helpfully.
"Shut it, you fool!" Omega scolded, somehow hissing and yelling at the same time.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that for now," Sarge commented thoughtfully, kicking the bottom of a shield hard enough to knock it away from its wielder before firing his shotgun over the top, ruining another poor soul's face.
"Meatheads one and all: Shut the fuck up for a moment!" Church blared over the radio, "Lopez, whatever you do, do not fire at the ship! Me and Tex are heading there! Got it?"
"Si," Lopez answered, growing a tad annoyed by the number of targets he had to ignore.
"Thank God Spanish-yes is easy to remember," Church grumbled as they ran to the ship, his burning rifle giving them a mostly-clear path.
This, of course, didn't stop Tex from delivering a jumping death kick to one soldier's head, landing her boot on a now-skull-crushed imp. "Any idea who's in that ship?" She asked as they continued running.
"If we were anyone else, I'd say command got the message and sent backup. But we're Team FUBAR, so I haven't a fucking clue," Church answered cynically as they neared the ship, "Got a grenade?"
"Do you have an ego?" Tex countered with a smirk as she fell behind, already throwing the explosive. "Umm, Church, you going to-?"
*BOOM!*
"Holy fuck!" Church yelled as his mechanical body took a bit of damage from the explosion, knocking him on his metallic ass. "Okay...misjudged that one a bit. Thought it'd be a bit smaller than that," he admitted...
Seeing the Spearlord down, a few brave soldiers ran through the flames and tried to slay him. The front runner was rewarded with his brains being incinerated, a roaring stream of fire going high into the air.
As the others dived away from the flames, Death took the second: Grabbing his sword arm and twisting it unnaturally, breaking it before kicking him with enough force not only to kill him, but send the corpse flying into several more warriors.
Death almost seemed to snarl as she turned to the Spearlord, before falling quiet at his display...
"Did...Church, did you just rip out that guy's spine...?" Tex asked slowly, looking between the paralyzed or dead body in front of Church and the bloody hand holding a lump of flesh and bones
"Umm, the base of it, yeah," Church answered awkwardly as he tossed it on the ground between them.
"...Why the hell did you do that?" Tex questioned after a moment.
"Don't know, guess I pulled too hard trying to rip it out," Church answered with a shrug as he continued to the ship, now avoided by the troops that were trying to avoid the explosions and the fire, though the display of spinal removal was probably a factor as well.
"That wasn't what I meant, Leonard," Tex retorted in mild annoyance as she followed.
"And just what did you mean, Ally?" Church teased, grinning as he felt her glare. He didn't care they were both robots, he could still feel that!
"Obviously she's wondering why in Sam Hell you would pull the darn thing out at the bottom," Sarge called over the radio, as he stood on the back of a downed enemy. "See, what you really want to do is get a varmint right between the shoulders. Ya might lose a bit of the neck if the fella has a weak one, but that can't be helped," he explained, finishing it by shooting the aforementioned area.
"Seriously?" Grif called over the radio, driving around the right flank of the Freelancers. "I thought you had to do in the middle, you know, behind the stomach? And wouldn't the shoulder bones get in the way?"
"I think the rib bones would get in the way more there," Simmons offered offhandedly, shooting anyone trying to sneak up on the super soldiers. It probably wasn't needed, all things considered, but they were running out of free spaces to drive around in-between the tank, the machine gun fire, the crashed ship, etc.
"No, no, ya sapsuckers! The weakest part of the spine is in the middle! Ya won't get bubkiss grabbing that but two half-spines!" Sarge protested.
"What about grabbing it from both ends?" Simmons suggested, "That should make it easier to keep it in one piece."
"Simmons, most of us don't have the time to pin a guy down, get hands on both ends of his spine and try to rip it out at both ends," Grif pointed out.
"Oh, right, forgot we were talking live enemies," Simmons murmured in response.
"Preferir a intentar alguna variante de un "guila de sangre." Como tirando y doblando las costillas hasta que se replieguen como alas que revelan los pulmones y el coraz n en el torso abierto," Lopez offered up evenly, wishing he could make a darker tone of voice even if no one understood him. ["I would prefer attempting some variant of a "blood eagle." Like pulling and bending the ribs to until they fold back like wings revealing the lungs and heart in the open torso."]
"Hey, O'Malley, you're the expert on this: thoughts?" Donut asked curiously, the Ghost pinning and crushing a soldier against a wall of red base.
"Sorry to say, but I have no idea: breaking and ripping bones is more Allison's thing, mass carnage is mine," Omega informed with a hum.
"Aren't you always threatening to take people's eyes or livers?" Donut inquired in confusion.
"I never said intact! If I honestly tried, I'd probably just get a meaty paste to take home," Omega explained with a chuckle as he pressed a button on his belt, setting off several trigger-activated sticky bombs he had thrown between firing rockets.
"Ew," Donut summed up.
"Omega, I'm so proud of you!" Doc exclaimed randomly.
"What in the name of all slaughter and hellfire are you babbling about you fool!?" The AI yelled in confusion.
"You're making frieeeeeends!" Doc declared smugly.
"What-!? How dare you! Take that back you ingrate! I shall not stand for such slanderous accusations!" Omega roared in fury at his host.
"I think someone protests too much~" Doc teased giddily.
"I don't have friends! I only have minions! And flesh puppets! And, occasionally, colleges," Omega countered with a huff of indignation.
"And a boss," Tex reminded evenly.
"You're just jealous that I listen to your boyfriend instead of you!" Omega countered with cackle.
Tex sighed before turning to Church, who was currently banging on the hull of the ship, "When did you all become sociopaths?"
"Oh, you know, somewhere between the mercs and the aliens and the flag worshippers," Church answered snarkily, "What the fuck is taking this idiot so long to open up?"
York and Wyoming had briefly stopped shooting, slowly looking at one another, "These are, without a doubt, the scariest, most fucked up soldiers I have ever seen," York stated in disbelief, "...And you took a job on them!?"
"In fairness, I didn't know them at the time, except Church. I thought they were just regular old sim-troops," Wyoming offered, sounding a bit wary himself.
"You knew about Tex's spine ripping, limb tearing boyfriend and took a job on his teammate?" York reiterated in a monotone.
"...Well, when you put it like that, Mate, I sound like a right twonk..." Wyoming muttered in annoyance before continuing to fire his explosive rounds.
"Delta? Make a note: Find out why the hell these guys weren't in Freelancer!" York instructed before unloading his machinegun once more.
"I have already taken the liberty of filing such an inquiry for further investigation," Delta answered.
"Goddamn, this fucker isn't opening up," Church muttered in exasperation, giving the ship a good kick.
"Church, they dropped into the middle of a warzone. While horribly one sided, these things usually don't open up until the soldiers inside are prepared to kickass," Tex pointed out.
"Yeah, which means they probably didn't come to help if they weren't ready when they dropped down," Church mused, rolling his shoulders as he started to walk away, "...Hey, Sheila, Wyoming, Omega? In about twenty seconds, can you all shoot at the soldiers right in front of the Gate? Not in, not on, in FRONT of it," He requested over the coms.
"Affirmative, orders received," Sheila acknowledged.
"Already on top of the base!" Doc called.
"I make no promises aiming this far though," Omega forewarned, grinning like a madman, "Like atomizing fish in an aquarium..."
"Proper timing, Church: I'm almost out of Omega's special ammo as it is," Wyoming stated with a chuckle.
"Good. Lopez? Can you get a shot up there without hitting the Gate?" Church inquired, a bit cautiously.
"No," Lopez answered simply. The rocket launcher wasn't a precision instrument by any standard.
"Oh well, three out of four ain't bad. Speaking of which, you three give about five shots each. That should get the message across," Church explained.
"...What are you doing?" Tex asked, feeling surprisingly warry about this.
"Donut, get this message to Caboose: Tell him it's time to go bowling," Church instructed, his amused tone sounding a little twisted to Tex's ears.
"Umm, are you sure this is a good time for that?" Donut asked in confusion even as he turned towards the base.
"Just do it before I give your bike back to Omega," Church ordered in annoyance.
"In fairness, I'm not sure I want it back from that one," Omega commented with a grimace.
"Church, what are you doing?" Tex repeated suspiciously.
"I'm ending this, Agent Texas," Church answered matter-of-factly as he walked off.
*BOOM!*
"...That was just a little creepy," Tex commented to herself as she watched Church go with a tinge of concern, even as the ground shook from the concentrated explosions, 'Or rather, a bit too much like the Director.'
"Hey, Church? I think these fuckers are finally wavering," Grif informed with a smirk under his helmet, seeing less and less of the enemies being willing to come forward.
"Figured as much. Now for the piece de resistance...," Church trailed off, most of the roman-ish soldiers fleeing from him as he walked through the area.
All at once, something appeared out of the teleporter and crashed through many, many soldiers; Said thing being Caboose…riding a shield like a surf board as it skid across foes and dirt…while shooting at more foes with an assault rifle.
"YEAH, EAT THAT CREAM CAKES!"
Oh, and Andy was riding along too.
"I AM THE PUFFER NICKLE! GIVE ME YOUR PENNIES AND ROOFIES!" Caboose cheered loudly.
"...What. The. Fuck?" York asked slowly.
"York, I believe I may be malfunctioning: My diagnostics cannot find the error affecting my visual sensors," Delta informed in what even sounded likely true confusion.
"How the actually shitting fuck did you know that would work?" Tex asked as she walked up to Church.
"Know? What fuckshrooms are you on? I just told Caboose to go bowling to see where he went with it...and, you know, there's no way he would have done this if I told him to go surfing," Church pointed as Caboose jumped off the shield, chasing after the other soldiers to "play" with them.
"Where you going ya nincompoop! You left me on the surf board!" Andy complained loudly.
"...No," Tex said slowly, not sure to grin or run, "You're not that crazy! He'll blow us up with them!"
"Oh, don't worry, he's lost a lot of weight recently," Church assured without worry.
"How does a bomb lose weight!?" Tex yelled in outrage, getting a shrug in response.
"Don't know why you're complaining. We're both already dead!" Church reminded in amusement.
"Church..." she growled.
"Relax, he's just the backup plan if-" Church started to assure before...something, cut him off; Said something being an unholy screech that filled the air for a several seconds.
"...What the fucksack was that?" Church asked in bewilderment.
"What the hell was that? Do we have another monster incoming?" Grif asked in mild confusion.
"So nonchalant about it too," York muttered with a sigh.
"Alert, enemy units in mass retreat!" Delta informed as the morale of the invading force finally broke, sending them fleeing back to the gate, tripping over the corpses of their comrades.
"Huh, guess we won't need Andy after all," Church mused to a sighing Tex as the soldiers fled around them, like they were two stones in a river.
"Yahoo! Take that ya varmint! Bring some booze next time!" Sarge jeered from Red Base, shooting once in the air before taking a few more shots at the fleeing targets.
"Yeah, go tell Caesar to send the next army with some salad!" Donut cheered with a fist pump.
"What? Already!? Dammit Church, I was just getting started!" Omega yelled, sounding more like a whine than the outrage he intended.
"Now who said I was done?" Church retorted deviously, "Shelia, you mind pulling up along the Gate?"
"Won't that prevent the enemies from retreating?" Shelia questioned.
"Exxxxactly," Church answered with a grin.
"Orders confirmed, moving to new destination," Shelia acknowledged as she began moving again as she crushed the dead, the dying, and the unlucky.
"Everyone...charge that gate and block off their retreat!" Church ordered with an almost Omega-like glee.
"What?" Tex asked in surprise.
"Your wish is my command, Captain!" Omega yelled with a loud cackle as he leapt off the base.
"Blue, ya better got some good reasons for this!" Sarge warned with a grumble as he followed after the madman.
"Weren't we just trying to drive them off?" Grif asked over his shoulder to Simmons.
"Eh, fuck it," Simmons answered with a shrug.
"Yeah, fuck it," Grif conceded as he put the Warthog into gear and started ramming towards the portal and over the survivors.
"Church, I think I see what you're doing, Mate. Mind if we just stick here and cover this side of things?" Wyoming inquired.
"Yeah, not a bad idea. Just don't let them run off into the caves," Church allowed as he waved down Shelia, "Mind giving me a lift?!"
"Church, what are you even doing now?" Tex asked with a raised eyebrow as he climbed on top of the Tank.
"You know that whole "take no prisoners" thing? Yeah, we're not doing that here," Church explained as he held out a hand to her.
"...What, you think I need help getting up on the tank?" Tex asked with a "really?" tone.
"With all the blood and guts, maybe, but I just wanted my sniper rifle back," he answered cheekily.
"You still have the flamecannon!" Tex retorted in annoyance.
"Hellspitter," Sarge called over the coms.
"Cremator," Grif suggested.
"Balrog," Simmons threw out.
"Hotstuff!" Donut proposed loudly.
"Enough. And I still want my old one back, Tex," Church stated bluntly. Tex rolled her eyes as she relinquished the weapon to its original owner, who slid it onto his back, "Okay, Shelia, let's get this show on the road! Hey, Tucker, how ya doing in there?" Church asked as the tank started moving again, getting a hiss from the canopy, "Geeze, bite my head off."
Tex shook her head as she watched the tank drive off ahead of her to where the soldiers were crowding and trying to escape back through the gate. She cocked her head as she saw the Warthog run over a multitude of soldiers, Simmons shooting down his own batch as they curved around to her to the roman-esque structure, "...Aww, fuck it," she decided as she made a mad dash for the crowd...
Meanwhile
The vexillatio, a temporary task force, formed to stand guard over the Gate had been given a rather rewarding duty. As unlikely as they were to be needed, their job had been to ensure no force would take Alnus Hill before the invasion force arrived and was now to keep any from trying attack the rear of their brothers in arms. True, they were no cowards, and would gladly join their comrades, but they did recognize that this could give them early picks on all the spoils that might be brought back.
At least, that had been the ideal situation.
The Pilus Prior, or most senior of the centurions in the vexillatio could only sweat and grit his teeth as watched the legions of the Empire began to pour back in from the gateway. Not in triumph, but in fear and terror, with their legs at minimum covered in blood. His own men and those transferred under him were becoming unnerved as well. Just what had they faced over there?!
"You there, soldier!" he yelled, grabbing a potential-deserter by his armor, shaking his attention to him, "I am the Pilus Prior here! What is going on over there!? Where is the Imperial Legatus?" he demanded hotly, hoping to rip through this man's fear.
"Dead, sir! He was one of the first to go! They felled him from clear across the battlefield! So many of the others died that no one knows who's in charge anymore! We had to retreat!" the soldier answered, looking like he was just short of breaking down into tears.
"They, who?! What are you retreating from!?" the centurion questioned, all but growling in the man's face.
He never got a verbal answer as something tore through his shoulder and almost knocked him off his feet. Like a dagger or javelin, thrusted through with the strength of a hundred men behind it. Following it was a sound like thunder. He screamed for only a second before he gripped his wound and gritted his teeth as he looked back to the gate, the soldier he was interrogating long gone.
His eye went wide in terror.
Over the heads of the retreating legions, the senior centurion spied a great black beast. Like an enormous scorpion, with a great tail curved up to strike. And standing on top it was a distant blue figure. Armor, he was sure, but the distance allowed him to see nothing else in detail; then...more joined the figure…a red one, a purple one, a black one. From their arms came flashes and great popping noises. And all at once, he saw more of the retreating troops fall, blood flying from their bodies.
Then the scorpion's tail turned.
"Retreat! Abandon the gate! Abandon the Gate!" he yelled loudly, waving his men to scatter. If tens of thousands could not claim victory, another fifteen hundred could do nothing!
As he fled, the Pilus Prior heard the roar of a great dragon as the ground shattered behind him. Right where he and his troops had been standing was nothing but a crater of scorched earth.
He grabbed a horse and fled for the capital, never looking back.
Meanwhile
"Yeah, that's right, run you motherfuckers!" Grif yelled, taking shots over the front of Shelia's treads since her top was getting a bit crowded.
"Come on, I can't even get an angle from back here!" Simmons whined, the vehicle parked right in front of the tank.
"YES! This is what I signed up for! Bloods, guts, carnage, fear, overwhelming firepower!" Omega cheered with endless cackles.
"I just shot a shell into another world," Shelia commented before firing again, "I believe I feel prouder of that than I should."
"This takes me back to my hunting days!" Sarge yelled with enjoyment.
Church waited a good minute more, making sure all the troops were dead or out the other side, "Okay, everyone! About Face!" he ordered loudly as he swung around, pointing at the enemies now trapped in the canyon.
The rest of the Blood Gulchers followed suit-
*bung!*
-with Sarge falling off the tank, Shelia's barrel having hit him over the head as it turned around while Tex, Church, and Omega all managed to duck under it.
"Consarnit, warn me next time you bucket of scraps!" Sarge yelled in frustration as he picked himself off the ground with a huff.
"What was that, Pomegranate?" Shelia asked warningly, pointing her main gun on him.
"Er...Pome-what? That some kind of rock or something?" Sarge asked awkwardly, "Grif, have you been making up stuff again?"
"It means don't piss off the lady with the fucking canon!" Grif yelled in exasperation.
Church shook his head at their antics, "And just like that, we're back to being dumbasses," he said, turning to look out at the survivors. There were several hundred, the better half of a thousand definitely. Mostly humans with a few of the other creatures mixed in. They were all tightly packed together. York and Wyoming had sent warning shots of hailing bullets and small explosions to any that tried to flee in the direction of any of the bases.
Now all guns were trained on them, including Donut...making motorcycle noises as he pretended like he was going to run them over.
The utter terror on their faces meant that they knew they were all completely screwed.
Good.
"I was beginning to miss you idiots being...well, idiots," Tex murmured with a small smirk.
"Where The Fucking Hell Did Caboose Go?" Church asked loudly.
"Church! The voices in my head are fixed!" Caboose cheered over the coms.
"Greeeeeat," Simmons said with a sigh.
"Caboose, I thought you were 'playing' with your new 'friends'?" Church asked in aggravation.
"Oh, I was, but then everybody started going home," Caboose answered simply.
"And the idiot can read the mood," Omega drawled, rolling Doc's eyes, "Church, can I blow a few more up?"
"No! Caboose, where are you?" Church asked with a sigh.
"Oh, I'm over at the ship! It's a lot bigger on the inside," Caboose answered happily.
"Like a Tardis?" Simmons opined.
"What am I late for?" Caboose asked in confusion.
"Wait, Caboose, you've been inside that thing?" Church asked in surprise, looking over and seeing Caboose waving at them from the ship.
He wasn't alone.
"HEY GUYS!" A female voice yelled out over the canyon.
"...The Hell?" Several of them muttered in shock while the captured enemies squirmed under the sound of the shouting.
"No," Grif said, his mind completely blank
"SWEET PARTY!"
"Any chance that's a freelancer?" Church asked curiously.
"No, unless...York, Wyoming, any chance that's Ohio?" Tex asked uncertainly, not recalling that one too much.
"Definitely not, Love," Wyoming answered flatly.
"WAY TO PAINT THE TOWN GREY!"
"Wait, what?" Simmons asked in confusion
"She's not going to shut up, is she?" Church asked with a sigh.
"No, no, no..." Grif chanted on, wishing this to be a dream.
"YOU GOT ANY BEER STILL?"
"No! All we got is blood, oil, and ketchup!" Sarge answered back in a yell.
"And mayonnaise," Church added in with a shrug.
"You guys get mayo?" Simmons repeated, head perking up from his gunner position.
" ALL THEY HAD ON THE SHIP WAS COUGH MEDICINE!"
"Okay, that is it!" Grif screamed as he ran out a quarter of the way to the ship.
"What's up with him?" Doc asked in confusion.
"KAIKAINA, YOU GET YOUR LITTLE ASS BACK ON THAT FUCKING SHIP RIGHT NOW AND FLY BACK HOME!" Grif roared at the top of his lungs.
"SCREW YOU BIG BRO! I CAME ALL THIS WAY TO SEE YOU!" Sister yelled back.
"...Grif has a sister?" Donut summed up their thoughts rather splendidly
"Great, they're multiplying," York intoned
"Five buck says she has a brother complex," Church said flatly.
"Where the fuck did that come from? Did you turn into Tucker?" Tex asked, leaning back and completely weirded out.
"Because there is no way it's as simple as her being his sister," Church drawled in resigned knowing.
"Dear Lord, they're going to Adam and Eve a whole race of subhuman turdmen!" Sarge exclaimed in despair.
"HEY, WHAT SICK FUCK ARE YOU GUYS SAYING ABOUT MY SISTER?!" Grif snapped, reeling around.
"THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT ME?! HOOOOOT!" Sister cheered.
"I...don't think I can deal with this right now," Church said with a sigh, glancing to their captives who were looking increasing antsy and unsure of their situation. He hummed before tapping his foot on the tank, "Hey, Tucker, good news, there's a chick here other than my girlfriend!...Tucker?" Church called, frowning at the silence, "Sheila, open the canopy," he ordered, Shelia wordlessly complying. Crouching down to get a better look, he froze, "...OMEGA, GIVE DOC HIS BODY BACK, NOW! DOC, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!" Church ordered, instantly silencing the nonsense around him with the urgent and cold fury in his voice.
Doc's body gave a shudder as the AI relinquished control before turning to the blue leader, "Church, what's wrong?" Doc asked in confusion. His answer was a finger pointing into the tank's driver seat. The medic walked closer, looking in to see- "Oh aitch, ee, double hockey sticks. I'm going to need some help here! Donut, Sarge, get up here! Grif, Simmons, go get some first aid supplies!" Doc called he pulled out his vital reader.
Church completely and utterly tuned out what was happening as he brushed by a confused Tex and jumped off the tank, wandering forward aimlessly as he resisted the urge to shoot sombody.
"Church?"
The ghost in a shell blinked as he looked up, Caboose and the new yellow soldier standing right in front of him. He had walked almost all the way to the ship, "Caboose, um...Sister," he greeted, a bit at a loss for words for once- and having no earthly idea what name Grif said earlier.
"Is the guy in the tank okay?" Sister asked curiously.
"Hmm, I don't know, let's check," Church said sarcastically as he called over the coms, "Doc, how's he doing?"
"He's giving birth!" Doc yelled in response.
"See, there you go, he's...HE'S WHAT!?" Church screamed, no sure to be shocked or angry anymore. Shongry? Angocked?
"Oh, I can help with that! I took classes after my third abortion!" Sister exclaimed as she took off running to the tank.
"Wait, what?" Church said in confused disbelief as he watched her go.
"Church, what's an abortion?" Caboose asked innocently.
"..." Church stared at Caboose for a moment before shaking his head with a small laugh as the utter yet familiar insanity of the situation set in, "I'll tell you later. Come on, I need...sorry, we need to "help" them move to the corner behind red base," Church explained, pointing to the survivors while ignoring some...disturbing sounds coming from the gate.
"Oh, are they staying!? Can I play with them again?" Caboose asked hopefully.
"Haha, we'll see, Buddy, we'll see," Church said with a decompressing sigh.
"This...has been the weirdest day of my life," York said slowly. "And I'm counting everything in Freelancer and that one weekend we were on leave."
"No arguments here, mate," Wyoming agreed.
"Should we...leave now, or something?" York asked uncertainly-
*BANG!*
-and paled rapidly as a sniper round hit into a rock behind him.
"Negative," Delta answered factually as they looked out to Church, who was no doubt glaring at them.
"Definitely not," Wyoming mused dryly.
Church scowled as he looked down at the sniper rifle in his hands. He wouldn't mention it, but he had meant to shoot a lot closer to York than that.
Shaking his head of it, he pulled out his Hellspitter as he looked to the survivors. He had some corralling to do.
End of Chapter
And there you have it, the failed invasion of Blood Gulch has ended, and the place has definitely earned its name!
Sorry if this was a little rushed, but between everything else and Church using the explosion to scare the troops still in the gate, this seemed like a good time to break their moral. Was originally going to have Sister come out during the ffight, but this was funnier. Still, hoped you all enjoyed that, including sheild-surfing Caboose.
Church went Director on everyone, actualyl creeping out Tex a little, and decided to take a shitton of prisoners. He has a few plans for them.
And yes, there was a chunk of this chapter dedicated completely to them discussing how to rip out a spine properly.
Okay, two apologies. One, sorry for the wait. It's been...a rough time for me lately. Fighting bud bugs, cleaning outthe house, looking for a job, etc.
Second, you all might actually thank me for this, but there will be no more review responses in chapter. Due to the sheer popularity of this story, answering them is starting to take up too much of the chapter. I will try to get into the habit of responding to reviews through the regular option. I sincerely hope this doesn't bother anyone.
PS Roman facts: A cohort, a group of centuries(80 soldiers each), was usually lead by the most senior centurion. Pilus Prior is one such title for them. Vexillatio is also a thing. Its basically make-shift or miniature legion, with troops from different legions to fulfill specific, temporary tasks force. Mainly something towards the end of the Roman Empire when the legions were stretched out to all the boarders. I couldn't find what their command structure was like, so I just used the Most Senior thing again.