Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue, RWBY, nor the items and some of the lore from Halo. RvB and RWBY belonged to Rooster Teeth while Halo is 343 Industries' and Microsoft's IP.
A few minutes later
The Blues' tank had finally made it's way from their little simulation canyon outposts to the HQ of Alpha Base, the massive military base built right into the very seams of the Blood Gulch pass. Passing through the entrance of the massive complex, one could take immediate notice squads of other soldiers in the middle of drills and P.T. exercises, never a dull moment here is there? There were also some detail transporting crates of equipment, rations, and the like in carrier trucks shunting in and out of the nearby large hanger bay, which itself housed rows of Pelicans, Hornets, and various other aircraft, including the occasional wasp here and there. Littered amongst them were also various ground vehicles, namely jeeps and tanks, plus a few Mantis droids. The typical assortment of a stocked hangar ready for deployment at a moments notice.
The Scorpion in question was eventually parked by a Grizzly, no doubt used by other sim troopers as a similar mode of transport, and the occupants disembarked, admiring the headquarters interior.
"Boy would you look at all this awesome stuff," Tucker whistled in admiration. "I know, if only our little outpost were half as cool as this place," Church intoned in agreement while he removed his helmet, ruffling his fohawk-styled spiky, short black hair that sat above his pale face. His dark brown eyes gazing across in admiration as he placed a contemplative hand on his chin, where a slight goatee was beginning to form.
Tucker hummed in agreement as he himself removed his own helmet, letting his currently-twined dreads flow free from their constriction.
A rather loud commotion in the other direction turned their attention towards another entrance on the south side, where another group of multicolored soldiers were making their way in. Their armors, however, were a significant grade above what the sim troopers were currently wearing: the freelancers had entered the complex.
Looking closely, one could indeed see this was the most notable freelancer group of the fifty-territory initiative: Maine and Washington were chatting amongst one another, with Connecticut walking beside Wash. The Dakota twins, North and South, were once again bickering as always, mostly South bitching about something with her brother simply nodding without a care. Flowers kept shaking his head at Wyoming's terrible attempted knock-knock jokes, and in front of them were the top three of the group, possibly even the entire project. York was casually chatting with Carolina, even though she didn't seem to be paying him any heed, opting to glare at the person before her, agent Texas.
Carolina, however, wasn't the only one whose rapt attention the freelancer had, noticing Church staring at her as she walked by the assembled blue team. She glanced at the simulation troopers she was often partnered with and offered a a curt nod before continuing towards the HQ's conference hall.
Church couldn't help but imagine badass music playing behind them as they walked on, and thus was oblivious to the pair of arms waving in front of him.
"Uh, Tucker, is Church broken again?" Caboose innocently inquired.
"Oh don't worry Caboose," Tucker replied as he continued to frantically wave his hands before the unresponsive blue's face, "he's just high on cloud nine right now."
"Oh, you mean he's daydreaming? I love doing that sometimes," replied the special blue as he tried to mimic his "best friend."
"Church, Church! Hey, come on man, snap out of it!" Tucker exclaimed as he shook his fellow cobalt soldier.
"-huh, wha, who?
"Dude, you were staring off into the distance, as if nirvana suddenly appeared right before your eyes." Tucker replied.
"Oh, uh, sorry. Guess I got lost in thought, what with the president coming here and all, eh heh" he fibbed, which the two responded with a scrutinized stare and a blank one. "Come on guys, lets just go."
"And which way is that?" Tucker inquired?
"What do you mean, it's right ov-" the words stopped on Church's tongue and a quick glance revealed he had lost sight of the freelancers, and the direction they were going in. 'Damn it' he cursed inwardly.
"How about we ask for directions?" Caboose happily suggested.
"You know what, that is probably one of the smartest things you have ever said in your life, Caboose," Church half-sarcastically half-sincerely replied to the dimwit. "Well, so long as we're here, lets at least get something to drink, I spotted a vending machine over that way."
And sure enough, there was a drink dispenser standing against a large, rectangular support column in the hangar, and began on the direction towards it. Once they arrived, however, their thirst gave way to annoyance as they heard a familiar voice taunting from behind.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite simulation losers. How's it hangin, dick wads?"
The group turned around with a groan to see a familiar set of black and orange armor, with a taller set of robotic black and green adjacent to him, wearing an X'ed LOCUS helmet.
"Ugh, just what we needed, more jerks," Tucker exasperatingly let out. "Felix, what the hell are you and undertaker doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, asswipe," Felix greeted with a voice laced with pure sarcasm, sparing no moment to flaunt his ego as well. "You see, my partner Locus and I happen to be on a knowing basis with the old man. Turns out, Kimball and Doyle are probably coming over to begin reintegration with the rest of Remnant."
"Wait, what?" both Tucker and Church let out in a genuinely surprised tone.
"Yes, that's right. Apparently, we're finally going to go through with it, and the president has selected our little old base to initiate it. See, several freelancers and volunteer teams are going to be sent out on a covert mission to scout out the other kingdoms and see how far things have come along since The Great War. OUR great war, that is. The volunteer teams in question are going to be very well compensated for this mission, and I'd just hate to even think of letting that big cash prize just sit around all on it's lonesome, with no one to claim it. Besides, our boss also wants in on the op, so he can see for himself just what the other kingdoms have to offer now that Hargrove Industries ca-"
"Felix, that's enough," Locus interrupted in a strict, but monotone, voice. " Command explicitly detailed our own mission as classified, and the last thing we need is for you to derail that before its even begun."
"*frustrated mutter* Will you just let me have this?! Ugh, gods, you're such a fucking square bear. Anyway the point being that - hey!" Felix angrily exclaimed as he glanced back at his audience, only to notice that that had walked off and away from them.
"But he isn't a square, or a bear."
"Shut up Caboose, don't help him."
Receiving directions from another nearby marine, they made their thanks and briskly headed for the hall again, readjusting their helmets.
"Hey, wait up I wasn't finished boasting and gloating yet! You guys! Guys!" Felix yelled and followed blue team into the hall themselves, with Locus trailing behind.
. . .
Outside HQ, two ODST were quietly standing guard
"Oi Bert, you ever wonder why we's he- hold on a minute, ya hear thaah?" asked the first one as a faint rhythmic noise could be heard getting louder and louder . . . or closer and closer.
"Uhh, yeah Larry, I think I doo. It sounds ... like . . ."
"...Tejano?"
All of a sudden, a large Warthog came rushing up the hill before them, with a loud voice yelling "YEEEHAW!" serving as their only warning to jump out of the way as it crashed through the wall, causing a scurry of several technicians and soldiers trying to scramble away from the ramming vehicle.
"Dangnabmit Grif, how many times do I have to tell you, if you're gonna crash into the wall, make sure you are in as unsafe a position as possible!? Well, never mind that now, we still have a meeting to beat the blues to!" Sarge exclaimed as he righted himself quickly and grabbed his shotgun, not appearing to have been that visibly affected by the sudden impact. The other two, however, weren't as fortunate.
"Ugh, who the fuck removed the brakes from this thing?"
"I thought it was your turn for maintenance duty on this thing, you cockbite. Damn, Lopez will be pissed once he finds out about this."
The noise of a revving engine broke them from their little spat, as a mongoose carrying Donut and Lopez finally caught up to them.
"Bueno, entonces es bueno que no haya viajado con ellos, no sea que me reduzcan a un montón de chatarra. . . de nuevo." (Well then it's a good thing I didn't travel with them, lest I have been reduced to a pile of scrap . . . again.)
"I agree Lopez, that ride was really bumpy. I could feel my seat cushion pressing up in me a couple of times."
With no face to portray his mood, Lopez elected to simply shake his head.
"Well, don't just stand there dawdling like a couple of flapjacks, let's move! I won't let our speedy arrival here have been for nothing!"
Earlier
"Quit your bellyaching and open your ears, dirtbags, I got news for you." Sarge exclaimed with a loud ahem "Now then, as you may have heard, a base-wide assembly will be taking place. What you haven't heard, however, was that madam President Kimball herself is coming to our little old HQ personally. And what's more, if the words of my superiors are to be believed, we may be very well taking the first step of opening ourselves to the rest of the planet and her peoples."
"Wait, what?" the two sim troopers let out in genuine surprise.
"So you're saying that some of us may be leaving the country as part of a diplomatic envoy? That's amazing, sir!" an excited Simmons let out at the news. "I've always wondered just when we would finally reintroduce ourselves since the war ended."
"Well that makes one of us then," an uncaring Grif replied back. It wasn't that he had anything against the kingdoms, not personally anyway, he just couldn't be bothered for that which wasn't his problem. Or even that which is, honestly speaking. It was just the way he rolls. "But what exactly does this have to do with us? And how do I, specifically, factor into it?"
"Keep your shirt on, dirtbag, I was getting there. The good man General Doyle has also personally informed me that the mission will be accepting volunteer teams for the scouting parties. And guess what I decided to do?"
". . . YOU DIDN'T!?" exclaimed both sim troopers, though with vastly differing emotions behind and between the two of them. For whenever the word 'military' comes into play for anything, it's a clear no-brainier that their dear old red sergeant will wholeheartedly step up to whatever the task at hand may be, provided with his own schemes as well.
"Heh heh, that's right you two. With this opportunity, we may very well be the first Gulchian natives to set foot on foreign soil in what must be a millennium. And even more importantly, what better way to mark such a momentous occasion then for those people to be REDS! Haha, I can already see it now: we'll wipe the smiles off those dastardly blues and soon, the whole of Gulch's citizens shall convert to the right way pf life. The Red way of life."
Silence met the mildly-deranged sergeant's speech before Simmons gave an enthusiastic applause with ass-kissing remarks to season. All while Grif simply muttered "I fucking knew it."
"But wait a minute, sir," Simmons interjected as a sudden thought came to his mind. "Why would the military go out of their way to send a bunch of amateurs for such a delicate operation like this? I mean, no offense to us, but wouldn't there be someone more qualified for this type of work, like boring politcians and useless diplomats?"
"An excellent question Simmons," that phrase sent a wave of giddyness within the red PFC, "and I'd normally be inclined to agree with you. But see, our purpose will actually be to secretly pose as citizens of their own within the kingdoms. Then, we go around, gather intel, learn more on their state of current events and such, and all-in-all making sure that everything is A-Okay for us to extend an olive branch. Then, we report back to HQ where they will make sense of the stuff we all scrounged up to and if all goes well, they will begin organizing a summit for our re-introduction."
"Oh, a covert op then? Well, how about th-"
"Wait for it," Grif interrupted.
"And all the while, the cherry on top us that we do it first instead of the damn, dirty blues, even if by just a mere millisecond more." Sarge proudly announced.
"Yep, there it is." The orange trooper concluded.
"Well, I sure hope the other kingdoms will have good moisturizer, my delicate skin can take nothing but the very best. Oooh, I also can't wait for all the picture opportunities we'll have over there. Oh, all the scrapbooking were gonna have for Red Team's first vacation as a group together just fills me up with so much bursting excitement!"
The three reds turned to the unexpected voice and saw Donut and Lopez strolling into red base's common room.
"And just where in the Sam hill have you two been? Now I'll have to repeat myself from the beginning," Sarge groused at the two. To which Grif and Simmons sighed disappointedly.
. . .
Back to the present
"You know sir, I still fail to see why this would count as a competition with the Blues, what with how important this one is." Simmons broke the Sargent from his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, uh, nonsense Simmons. No matter how important some things may seem, it is NEVER a viable option that we allow the Blues to succeed before we do."
"Oi, you bastard!" yelled one of the ODSTs as he angrily marched up to Sarge, shifting his attention to this new development.
"Do you think you clowns can just walk off after the shit you just pulled!?"
"Heh?" Sarge dumbly asked as he peered at the ODST. "Is that insubordination I'm hearing, soldier?"
"Insubordination my arse! You three knuckleheads are- oof!" he was cut off with a strong melee wack to his helmet, courtesy of Sarge's trusty shotgun.
"Ha, thought so."
END