GATE: Red vs Blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Red VS Blue or GATE
"And there he is, the Burning King of Assholes!" the snarky explosive sprouted off the moment Church got close.
"Yeah, up yours, Scrotomite," Church greeted, "Sorry you didn't get to go off, but...well, something large and unexpected happened."
"Ohh, I love it when that happens," Donut commented giddily.
Church facepalmed as he realized his own choice of wording.
"Yo, bottom-boy! Don't say shit like that when you're holding me!" Andy demanded in annoyance.
"No, no. I set that up, that one's on me," Church accepted with a sigh as he held out a hand. "I'll take him from here, Donut."
"Are you sure? He's a handful," Donut joked playfully.
"Haha, yes, very funny," Church said sarcastically while making a "give it" motion. "Just give him here, and go see the alien baby or something."
"Good idea! I have to figure out what kind of clothes to buy for the post-birth baby shower!" Donut agreed as he gave the bomb to Church, who only swayed slightly under its weight.
"Wow, you have lost weight," Church noted with interest as he looked over the sphere. Andy was covered in a bit of blood but thankfully no guts. "How the fuck you manage that?"
"Try exercising, ya dumbnut," Andy advised with what sounded like a verbal eye roll.
"Says the talking bomb to the ghost with a robot body," Church counter-snarked as he walked through the canyon. "You know, we could have found you faster if you had spoken up before now."
"Ehh, I was too disappointed to care," Andy grumbled to himself.
"Tell you what? Next time we fight an army from there, I'll let you be the opening attack," Church offered in amusement.
"I am holding you to that, Beetlejuice," Andy swore accusingly.
"I didn't know beetles could be Jewish?" Caboose commented cluelessly as they arrived at red base. "Hi Church! Andy, we need baths."
"For the last time, I'm not having a bubble bath with you!" Andy said in aggravation.
"You might want to reconsider that," Church suggested. "Caboose is the best cleaner in the canyon besides Donut."
"I get all the hard spots!" Caboose proclaimed as he walked over to them with his minigun.
"Oh, fuck my lugnuts," Andy cursed.
"Still, Caboose, what the shitfuck are you doing here?" Church asked in mild-but-expected annoyance. "You're supposed to be watching the prisoners."
"I am!" Caboose assured, turning to look at the gathering of demoralized and terrified soldiers, giving them an enthusiastic wave. "Hi!"
"And if they run off and cause trouble when you're not looking?" Church challenged.
"Oh no, there won't be annnny trouble," Caboose answered in a calm, smooth voice.
The awkward silence was cringe worthy. "What did you do?" Church deadpanned.
"...Don't be mad?" Caboose requested after a moment of silence.
"I promise not to shoot the other toe," Church retorted sardonically.
"Some of our new friends may have tried to sneak away so I may have tried to help them get back to the group...and one of them may have been too slow," Caboose informed in a slow, placating tone.
"Too slow?" Church repeated evenly.
"Well, to be honest, he was being lazy," Caboose clarified offhandedly. "I didn't want to say anything mean about him, but he just didn't want to get up like a big boy after I shot him some. He just kept crawling and getting his leg-blood everywhere," Caboose explained in childish indignation.
"...Why doesn't Dr. Bloodbath like this dumbass again?" Andy asked in bewilderment.
"Am I in trouble for putting more holes in him?" Caboose asked, sounding like he just got his hands caught in the cookie jar, again.
Church actually took a moment to think about this. "No, no, that was fine. Just remember: they don't need your "help" unless they're trying to leave the group."
"Oh...Oh! I did good then?" Caboose questioned in excitement.
"Yeah, sure, whatever, you're the best," Church answered with a shrug.
"YEA! I, Caboose, is the greatest watchperson in the history of watchpersoning!" Caboose cheered, actually raising the machine gun up over his head in excitement.
"Hey, watch it with that thing," Church scolded as he leaned back.
"Sorry," Caboose apologized without missing a beat as he lowered the large weapon.
"Listen, I want you to take Andy with you back to our new "friends" so he can start trying to decipher their language," Church instructed.
"You're sending me with Private Bluebrains?" Andy asked in annoyance.
"Okay!" Caboose accepted, taking the talking explosive from the other talking explosive.
There was a pause before Church blinked, processing what he just heard. "Wait, you actually understand what decipher means?"
"No, but I know language is our words, and Andy helped us with Crunchbite's words, so I just thought he was helping us with their words now," Caboose explained jovially.
"Okay, I'm officially impressed," Church admitted, his mood genuinely brought up a bit by that amazing mark of progress on Caboose's part. "Have fun you two. Andy, don't let him kill them all. We want some damn answers."
"Aye-aye, Captain Blueballs," Andy acknowledged, wishing he had the arms to give a salute and flip Church off at the same time.
Church just shook his head and sighed as he decided to make a phone call. "Command? Come in, Command? Vic, if this goes to an answering machine, I wi-"
"Wow wow, chill Captain Burn-My-Ass!" Vic answered in a hurry. "I don't know what the dealeo was before, but your new old-style stargate was causing all kinds of problems on my end! It's clearing up now, for reasons beyond my prospects, my friend."
"Yes, that's great and all, but please tell me command is sending something or someone to help us out here? Cause these prisoners aren't going to last long in our care," Church informed bluntly.
"Chill your pill, my main man! I may not have been able to talk to you murder-happy kiddos, but boy could I hear you all! And I made sure the invasion message got out. The boys up top sent the cavalry and they'll be dropping out of the sky tomorrow," Vic informed good naturedly.
"Huh...that still sucks ass, as normal, but it's a fuckton better than when we sent for Doc...or the week it would have taken anyone but Tex to get here," Church mused absently. "Hey, Vic?"
"Whatcha needo?" Vic inquired in acknowledgment.
"Why is Grif's sister here?" Church questioned in a calm, curious tone.
"Ya mean Kaikaina? She was sent to replace you! Well, more like replace old Captain Flowers after the whole transfer thing," Vic explained cheerfully. "Somebody better correct that though, my files are still saying the poor fellow up and died of an overdose!"
"Allergy. She's a fucking blue?" Church asked in surprise. "How the fuck does that work? Isn't that like, a conflict of interests or something?"
"Hell if I know, homie. I just work here, same as you," Vic answered in mock surrender.
"Right...and the yellow armor?" Church inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"I have-wait, wait no, I know this one. One second, reading it now...? Yeah, right here on the medical report, says she's colorblind," Vic explained with a hum.
"...What the Shitsauce...?" Church muttered in bewilderment.
"I know, right! Hey, ya think these Grif kids are part dog or something? Dogs are the lazy ones, right? I know those furry things are colorblind though," Vic mused out loud.
"Moving on to avoid bitch-in-heat jokes," Church said with a sigh. "I'd ask why the promotion and replacement took so long, but that is just fucking typical of them."
"Know the pain, Dude. Keep up the good fight and all, and good luck with your man-baby of an alien!" Vic declared with an audible grin.
"Thanks," Church said dryly before ending the call. "...How did he know about the alien?" Church wondered with a scowl before shrugging. "Radios were probably still on or something."
Meanwhile
"You can keep glaring, Allison, but neither of us are going to explode into cosmic gore today," Omega pointed out with a drawl as he used Doc's body to work on Lopez's bisected body.
"I think you mean neither of us has exploded into cosmic gore YET, Omega," Tex replied evenly, still glaring at the AI, "The day is still young."
"Ah, yes, think of all the glorious carnage I could be engaging in...and yet, I'm here, helping one idiot put another idiot back together!" Omega drawled in disappointment.
"S , soy el idiota aqu , perro del diablo azul," Lopez agreed sarcastically. [Yes, I am the idiot here, dog of the blue devil.]
"I'm just waiting for you to turn on us now that the fun is over," Tex answered simply. "Then I'll blow your digital head off."
"Umm, Lopez, can you fe- I mean, move your left leg any?" Doc asked awkwardly between the killer conversation.
"Negativo, pero mis sistemas dicen que la pierna derecha est parcialmente restaurada," Lopez answered, wiggling the opposite limb. [Negative, but my systems say the right leg is partially restored.]
"Okay, that might be a problem. Omega, I think you got the left and right circuits mixed up," Doc informed in a poorly concealed whisper.
"Over, is it?" Omega asked with a creepy chuckle, ignoring them as he continued working and talking to his original host. "Is that what you think?"
"What are you playing at, Omega?" Tex asked wearily.
"I am playing at nothing, Dear Alison. The simple matter is that I have no intention of leaving your boyfriend's services any time soon," Omega answered smugly.
"Alright, there, that should work. Right, Omega?" Doc asked hopefully.
"Fuga detectada," Lopez informed as a pool of oil formed beneath him. [Leak detected.]
"Whoops. You might need a bed pan or a diaper for a while, Lopez," Doc commented sympathetically.
"Gemido."[Groan.]
"Right, you're just going to keep being the lapdog to a leader of idiots," Tex said sarcastically.
"Attack dog, thank you. Try not to get my job mixed up with yours," Omega jabbed over Doc's shoulder.
"You forget, I have a gun," Tex warned, cocking her rifle threateningly.
"Please don't forget, this is my head!" Doc pleaded fearfully.
"And you seem to forget, I didn't have any issue working for the Director until the end," Omega reminded dryly, hardly even acknowledging the threat to his current meat puppet. "More to the point, why would I leave? Church obviously has no intention of leaving these primitives alone and I want to be at the front of the line to march through that gate," Omega explained with relish before shrugging. "Plus, you know, I might get to interrogate some of the prisoners once a translator is ready."
"And whatever happened to your "Destroying the Universe" thing?" Tex countered skeptically.
"Eh, shoot for the moon, land in the stars and all that nonsense," Omega answered with a dismissive wave. "I'll settle for this carnage and see where the rivers of blood and gore take me. Besides, I underestimated these fools and their aptitude for carnage."
Tex said nothing, obviously still unhappy with the situation.
"Just remember, calling me in was ALL Church's idea. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a grump of a boss expecting this robozo up and sassing within the hour," Omega added on in amusement.
"Tu "jefe" me hizo esto, fallo de un villano de dibujos animados de los s bados!" [Your "boss" did this to me, you failure of a Saturday cartoon villain!]
Meanwhile
*BEEEEEEEP!*
"Wow, okay! I'm up, I'm up!" Grif yelled, banging his head on the top of the Warthog's front window. "Jesus, Sarge! What could you possibly need-and you're not Sarge," Grif realized as he turned to see who honked his horn.
"Captain, actually. So, technically, I outrank him," Church commented offhandedly. "He's back with the alien, just in case it tries to eat anyone and needs its brains blown out."
"Right. There a reason you nearly made me shit my pants?" Grif asked uncaringly.
"Yeah, all the other fuckers are off doing their own things, mostly. And I had two questions for you, so I figured why the fuck not," Church answered with a shrug.
"It couldn't have waited until after my nap?" Grif asked irritably.
"I have no interest in waiting out your hibernation," Church shot back. "Anyway, first question is just in case we get attacked again: How's the jeep?"
"Fine so far. Should probably clean some of the bones and meaty bits out before they get clogged somewhere or something," Grif answered, rubbing his helmet with a yawn.
"Yeah, figured as much," Church answered calmly.
"If the second question has to do with my sister, kindly fuck off," Grif requested, already putting his head on the steering wheel.
"Right ballpark, but no," Church stated with a scowl as he looked over toward Sheila. "What's your take on the new Freelancer, Mr. Big Apple?"
"Why don't you just ask Tex?" Grif inquired, glancing to the blue leader.
"She trusted him and his own little AI enough to ask them for help against Omega and Wyoming. And having worked with him for years, she's probably a bit biased," Church answered simply.
Grif didn't say anything for a moment before sighing. "Guy reminds me of Simmons, but without the Geekiness," Grif answered halfheartedly.
"Or the issues talking around girls," Church added in mockingly.
"Tautology," Grif shot back with a smirk.
"What fucking religion is that?" Church questioned in confusion.
"Dude, you never watched Hellsing Ultimate Abridged? Fuckmothering Vampire? Going for an Enthusiastic Walk? Bitches Love Cannons?" Grif asked in disappointment, getting a blank stare in return. The orange soldier just shook his head. "Where the fuck was your childhood?"
"Somewhere between my parents fucking in a Ferris wheel and my high school threesome," Church countered matter-of-factly.
"...Seriously?" Grif asked in surprise.
"Yeah, newsflash, Tex isn't the only woman I've fucked," Church stated dryly. "Back on topic?"
Grif shrugged. "Guy is calm, laid back, blind in one eye and someone died on him," Grif answered casually.
"How'd you deduce that?" Church asked curiously as he glanced towards the distant agent.
"He's got a lighter. He checks to make sure it's there every few minutes and clutches it hard when he uses it, like he's afraid to drop the thing," Grif explained, glancing up. "Take it from a guy that lived on and off the streets as a child. You don't hold onto things like that unless you lost someone or they walked out of you. And given he's a soldier and all that, well, we know where the odds lay there."
"...Thanks. Enjoy the nap," Church stated after a moment, turning to leave, getting a grunt in response. 'Third Question: Is Grif an idiot with good moments or just a lazy asshole? Current score is in favor of asshole.'
Meanwhile
"Holy Ebbing Lax-Lobster," Simmons said slowly. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No. Terrible idea in fact, Mate," Wyoming answered honestly as they stared down at their target of interest.
"Then why are we doing this?" Simmons inquired. "Or is this your way of getting me killed?"
"Perish the thought. As roundabout as it is, we are on the same side for now," Wyoming assured. "Besides, cover ups and false-accidents are not my style, as it were."
"Real comforting," Simmons said, unconvinced.
"To tidy this all along, this bugger might tell as much about their world as any of the gooseberry legions," Wyoming pointed out.
"Gooseberries?" Simmons repeated in confusion.
"Plus, you know, my inner child is barking mad at the prospect of riding one of these," Wyoming admitted with a shrug.
"...Can't argue with that," Simmons granted as he observed the creature…A dragon, to be exact. Or drake, wyvern, or whatever the scaly blue thing was about thirty feet from them. It was pressing itself against the walls of the cannon, in a little corner covered in enough blood and corpse-bits to almost hide it against the rock face while its right wing was full of holes.
The flying reptile eyed them with obvious fear. Particularly Wyoming, if Simmons was right.
"This bloke might be injured, but he's smarter than the others. Saw his mates dropping like bombs in an air raid and decided to hide instead of continuing on ground. I think he even figured out what was downing them," Wyoming theorized, moving his sniper rifle meaningfully.
The dragon whimpered, pushing itself harder against the crimson stained wall.
"Okay, fairly intelligent for an animal," Simmons observed wearily, "So...how do we deal with this thing, exactly? I mean, we can't just let it stay here, can we?"
"I'm hoping your so-called leader can deal with that. I'm more buggered by how to keep Omega and Church from offing the bloke...huh, never thought I'd be on this side of the scope. Target, sure, but concerned bystander?" Wyoming mused to himself.
"Well, Omega we probably just got to point out that we can ride it if its wing heals. Church...is a bigger concern," Simmons opined. "...You don't think its teeth could get through our armor, do you?"
"It'll probably be able to crush or break our bones inside it if not," Wyoming answered unsympathetically.
"Why did you want my help on this again?" Simmons questioned, legitimately curious.
"I believe I heard something about you being a cyborg."
"Oh fuck my fax machine."
Meanwhile
"Honk, Honk!"
"Aww, what a good little rascal!" Sarge said affectionately as he handed Junior a severed arm. "Not a lot of blood left in these fellas, but Doctor doesn't want you suckin the good stuff off the ground just yet," he apologized.
"Blarg, Honk!" Junior cheered, perhaps in understanding, before latching onto the limp and trying to drain whatever liquid he could out of it.
"Huh. Wonder if these guys are just vampiric or actually eat meat?" Sarge wondered, looking over his shoulder. "Hey, Manhattan! You know anything about these critters?"
"You talking to me?" York asked uncertainly, eyeing the infant alien warily.
"No, I was talking to the ghost of Teddy Roosevelt. He's right behind you," Sarge answered sarcastically. "Of course I'm talking to you, Coney Island!"
"You know, there are other places in New York besides the city?" York informed halfheartedly.
"Quit your saucing, Big Apple, and just answer the question," Sarge ordered in irritation.
"The Elites, or Sangheili, are believed to be omnivorous, not unlike humans," Delta informed, appearing on York's shoulder. "Their young drinking blood, however, is a somewhat new discovery."
"Great, another one of you AI thingies," Sarge remarked, looking at the AI intently. "Yer not a brain hopper like your hammering and yammerin brother, are ya?"
"...I assume you are referring to Omega. If so, no, I do not possess his "brain hopper" ability as you put it," Delta answered civilly.
"Good. Last thing we need is having to use Lopez's music again to drive you out or whatever the Blues used last time," Sarge commented gruffly before turning out to the field. "Hey, Griferella! Ya find any more good parts for the tike?!" he called as he walked off. "Keep an eye on him while I give her a hand, Manhattan!"
"I'm trying old man! But some of these are starting to look like the arms you told me not to feed him!" Sister yelled back in frustration.
"Hey, don't look at me young lady! Doctor Hen over there said we shouldn't feed him the non-human stuff in case he got sick," Sarge countered as he strolled out onto the blood-soaked ground.
"...This is by far the most messed up experience in my life, D," York summarized, shaking his head. "...D?" he asked in concern, looking to find the figure just standing there.
"I...York, I believe I am having processing issues. I cannot simulate a scenario where music would lead to Omega's capture or destruction," Delta informed, sounding strangely helpless.
"We are sane men in a sane-less land, D," York said sagely as they hung in silence. "...Wait, you're NOT going to correct me about you not technically being a man?"
"While I do not have a biological sex, I do identify as male for ease of conversation. Therefore, in that sense, I can be considered a man," Delta explained. "I have too many routines running in an attempt to understand these troopers to correct every statement, so apologies in advance for my irregular behavior, York."
"Duly noted and completely understandable, D," York acknowledged, glancing to the baby alien as it sat on the edge of the tank and kept licking and drinking blood from a pile of small pieces of human body next to it. "...Is it safe to keep this thing?" York questioned hesitatingly.
"Utterly unknown. Elite's reproducing with humans and their own infantile psychology is an unknown. However, if their sapience is anything liken to homo sapiens, they-"
"Firing Main Cannon."
*BOOM!*
"Blarg! Honk, Honk, Honk!" Junior cried in what almost sounded like tears at jumped towards the nearest adult, York, and clung to him.
He hardly noticed, staring between the tank and where the shot landed: the rock face right above the prisoners. A bit of the wall broke off, boulders crushing a small portion of them on the left side as the defeated soldiers tried to flee from their deaths.
"Holy Fuckcakes on Shitrice! York, what the hell did you do!?" Church screamed over the radio.
"It wasn't me! The tank just fired on its own!" York swore, keeping his arms away from the sobbing alien.
"...Sheila?" Church asked evenly.
"Apologies, Church, but my cannon was fired manually," Sheila informed in her normal, pleasant voice.
"Manually?" Church, York, and several others repeated in confusion.
The canopy chose to open at that time as a certain sword wielding blue leaned up with a groan, looking down at York. "You say something about the pink guy?" he asked with a tired chuckle.
"Umm...your guy is awake," York informed awkwardly.
"Tucker? Ello, Tucker, you reading me?" Church called curiously.
"Hey Church. Sorry about whatever I hit. Woke up really weak and pressed the wrong button. What I'd miss?" Tucker asked weakly.
"Our victory party. We had cake and ice cream," Church joked with a smirk.
"I bet you ate it all anyway, Tubby. I hit anything important?" Tucker asked as he rolled his shoulders.
"A few dozen prisoners out of hundreds, so, no. And no, none of them were chicks...I think," Church informed, whispering the last part to himself. "Hang tight, I'll be over in a minute. Tex, Sarge, get over to Caboose and help him get them under control again!"
Tucker chuckled as he turned his radio off, glancing back at the freelancer. "Nice pet. Yours?" he asked with a smirk.
"Blarg, Blarg!" Junior cried out, looking at Tucker with what seemed to be happiness.
"I'll just...let the captain explain this," York answered slowly, making the best decision of his day.
"Captain...wait, Church got promoted? Or is Flowers a ghost now too?" Tucker questioned curiously.
York noticed Delta's absence and envied the little AI's option to just stay out of this mess. Though, it was a bit telling that Delta of all AIs took said option.
"Hey, what happened? Hello? Was that the cake I ordered?" Donut called from inside red base.
End of Chapter
Oi, I am sorry this took so long. Part of it was writer block. My beta fixed that. The rest was IRL issues. Bed Bugs are a bitch to get rid of. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this. I'll be moving things along now in this. Next chapter will have the reinforcemnt shows up. After that, thing's will snow ball and avalanche into the Gate world.
Church will be finding out about his AI status very soon, but not before Tucker finds out about being a parent, lol.