Well, I'm glad I finally got around back to SV!
And about the Patreon thing, "Link" I think you should switch to Ko-Fi, and the video I just linked is a pretty good explanation IMO.
Glad to hear about Gulch and Phantom, though!
A Worm in the Gulch (Worm/Red vs. Blue)
- Thread starter SkyRig
- Start date
- Crossover
Well, I'm glad I finally got around back to SV!
And about the Patreon thing, "Link" I think you should switch to Ko-Fi, and the video I just linked is a pretty good explanation IMO.
Glad to hear about Gulch and Phantom, though!
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
Sorry for the double post. The next chapter is underway and should be ready sometime this week, though that might change. FFXVI recently got DLC and I haven't beaten NG+, so there's that...
On a more important note, and I *really* mean important, I have decided to move on from Fanfiction.net. It wasn't an easy decision, but between seeing the frustration from fellow authors over the site's numerous bugs and problems which have only gotten worse over the last few years, the lack of user protection from trolls who review-spam on multiple accounts or send threatening and disgusting PMs, and the fact that said problems haven't really been addressed made me decide I am better off moving to other platforms like this and AO3, even though AO3 is chock full of its own degenerates.
Still, at least on AO3 you can moderate reviews and get rid of the openly disgusting ones.
Last thing. The reason the next chapter is kind of taking so long is that I am doing my best to extend the length. As easy as 1 to 2k long chapters are to write, I feel like I'm not giving you guys enough bangs for your bucks, especially since I for some reason do have people who are paying me five bucks a month on pat reon. It's a double-edged sword, I've realized. Asking for handouts just to continue my writing lifestyle and to help my fam, but it also puts pressure on me to write something everyone will enjoy.
Speaking of which, my first work over on Royal Road should be up soon. Probably by the new year, so that's something to look forward to.
tl;dr next chapter is gonna be longer and should be out before the end of the week.
Once again, thank you everyone for being so patient with me.
On a more important note, and I *really* mean important, I have decided to move on from Fanfiction.net. It wasn't an easy decision, but between seeing the frustration from fellow authors over the site's numerous bugs and problems which have only gotten worse over the last few years, the lack of user protection from trolls who review-spam on multiple accounts or send threatening and disgusting PMs, and the fact that said problems haven't really been addressed made me decide I am better off moving to other platforms like this and AO3, even though AO3 is chock full of its own degenerates.
Still, at least on AO3 you can moderate reviews and get rid of the openly disgusting ones.
Last thing. The reason the next chapter is kind of taking so long is that I am doing my best to extend the length. As easy as 1 to 2k long chapters are to write, I feel like I'm not giving you guys enough bangs for your bucks, especially since I for some reason do have people who are paying me five bucks a month on pat reon. It's a double-edged sword, I've realized. Asking for handouts just to continue my writing lifestyle and to help my fam, but it also puts pressure on me to write something everyone will enjoy.
Speaking of which, my first work over on Royal Road should be up soon. Probably by the new year, so that's something to look forward to.
tl;dr next chapter is gonna be longer and should be out before the end of the week.
Once again, thank you everyone for being so patient with me.
Steakthedog
Verified Pedant
We, or atleast some of us, live to wait for your work. Don't sweat the time we wait. It just means a better product in the end.
#2-1 - Sidewinder (AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
The first thing that registered in my brain after regaining consciousness was pain. Blinding white light, a horrid ache all across my body, and the sensation of somebody taking an icepick to my brain. It hurt to so much as twitch. I could hear voices above me, but I could not make out anything they said. Their voices were muffled and drowned out like they were speaking underwater.
I don't remember how I got here, where "here" even was, or even my name. Everything was a blur. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light. A lantern stared down at me, peeking through my helmet's visor. I realized I was still wearing my armor. Feeling slowly returned, though that made the pain worse now that I could actually feel the bruises and the uncomfortable weight of my armor.
The voices gradually became more distinct and clear. It was a man and a woman.
"Honestly, she's lucky to even be alive. Seriously, this armor is sooo out of date!"
"Emily," the man sighed. "The armor is only behind by a generation. Still, I will concede on how luck. The better question is, where did she come from?"
"Beats me. Haven't had a chance to study that crack."
"…please tell me you haven't thrown anybody into it."
"How can I? Have you seen this place? I'm up to my neck in wounded!"
I didn't recognize the voices. They were new. I turned my head, careful not to aggravate my wounds too much. The man wore white armor with orange-yellow markings, his helmet sitting on the table beside him. It's design was different than mine, more stylized with a narrow visor running down the middle. He looked like he was Dad's age, light blonde hair neatly swept back and tied into a small ponytail with a neatly trimmed beard, wrinkles nestled deep in the skin beneath his almond-colored eyes. Across from him was a woman in similar armor, albeit less "bulky" and more lithe, noticeably lacking in armor plating with purple trims. She was maybe a decade or so older than me, freckles decorating the bridge of her nose and cheeks with frazzled ebony-black hair spilling down across her shoulders. Dark sagging bags hanged under blue eyes.
I stared at them, wondering who they were and where I was. As I tried to figure out how I got here, I felt a throbbing pain in my left side. An involuntary groan escaped me as I reached for my left side.
"Ah, she's awake!"
Fuck, I thought acidly.
The woman smiled tiredly down at me. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"
"Sore," I replied. My throat was dry. Even cottonmouth was better than this. "W-water…"
"Right, right. Hang on a second." The woman retreated further back into the room, leaving me with the kind-looking man smiling down at me.
"I believe you are wondering where in the world you are at the moment, no?" I nodded. "Allow me to introduce myself first. My name is Donald Doyle. Despite what my appearance may tell you, I am no soldier. I'm the assistant secretary to the Brigadier General, who is sadly away on business at the moment. And you are…?"
My name came to me almost immediately. "Taylor…"
The woman, Emily I remembered Donald calling her, returned with a plastic cup full of water. She briefly set the cup on the table next to her to help me sit up straight, ignoring my body's protests and removing my helmet. The air felt cold. It reminded me of home. "Slow sips," Emily advised as she handed me the cup of water. "Don't try to drink it all at once."
"This is Emily Gray, our chief physician," Donald introduced her properly. "You have her to thank. I must admit, you gave us all quite the shock! A rather dynamic entrance, I should say."
The water spilled down my throat, wiping away the sticky dryness in my mouth. I kept the water to a trickle, not trusting myself to choke if I drank too much at once. "What," I licked my lips. "What do you mean? Where am I?"
"You showed up right outside the encampment," Emily told me with a dim smile. "At least three of our men saw you being thrown out of an honest to god crack in the fabric of reality. It's actually quite fascinating, honestly. I would very much like to know what the crack is, and more importantly who you are, but I have more important matters to attend to at the moment. It's hard work keeping everyone alive, you know."
"As to where you are, young lady," Donald said. "You are currently in the main forward camp of the Federal Army of Chorus."
"…Chorus?" A sense of dread fell upon me. Slowly, I started to remember what happened. "Not…Sidewinder?"
"I'm afraid not. If I might ask, where is Sidewinder specifically? Moreover, where did you even come from? And what in the world were you doing that involved you being at the epicenter of a megaton bomb?"
Fucking Christ on a pontiff, where the hell do I start?
"A Worm in the Gulch"
AKA
Taylor Gets Isekai'd Into The Space-Ass End In The Middle Of Bum-Fuck-Egypt"
Welcome back to the fanfic, you cockbiting fucktards
Love, The Writer
AKA
Taylor Gets Isekai'd Into The Space-Ass End In The Middle Of Bum-Fuck-Egypt"
Welcome back to the fanfic, you cockbiting fucktards
Love, The Writer
You ever had a bad dream? A nightmare so bad you wake up in a puddle of your own sweat, hoping that whatever happened to you never happened and you just imagined the whole thing?
I've had them. Plenty since Mom died, in fact. They're never pleasant, less so because I never talked about them with Dad. I barely even remember the last time we had an honest chat or heart-to-heart since Mom died. When the bullying started and he barely noticed, I didn't even try broaching the subject to him.
I remember having a nightmare before waking up hogtied to a tree. It started off with me waiting for Mom to make breakfast. Dad and I are sitting at a table. I remembered smelling the delicious scent of homebaked waffles and cooked bacon and how I drooled. I got impatient and walked up to mom, asking when breakfast would be ready.
Mom looked at me. I didn't see a face. No eyes, mouth, ears, or nose. I only saw a flat space of flesh marred by bleeding cuts, glass sticking to parts of her face. I screamed when she reached for me.
It makes no sense, of course, but nightmares don't have to make sense. They just need to scare the shit out of you.
…still, as a pro tip in case you suffer from nightmares, adrenaline and anger are a good way to make you forget whatever the hell it is you dreamed of. It worked wonders for me when I realized I'd been kidnapped – AGAIN! – and tied to a tree.
#2-1
Sidewinder
(AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
Sidewinder
(AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
"Oh, for fuck's sake…"
Honestly, I should have known something like this would happen. The Reds and Blues actually had a working plan, but it blew up in their faces. Almost literally in Church's case.
I was still kidnapped, and worse, I was someplace else. There was snow as far as the eye could see and tall mountains in the distance. I vaguely saw what looked like a military base in the distance, but I couldn't be sure. Not that I was in any position to do anything, seeing as how I was tied to a tree.
O'Malley, or Omega, or whatever his name is, was nowhere to be found. Lopez was here with me, but I couldn't understand a word he said. I could make out a few words, but nothing that would really help me. He also made no moves to help me, which I interpreted as him being hacked.
With Lopez standing watch over me, there wasn't much I was able to do beyond struggle to get out of my bindings. Including the rope tying me to the tree, O'Malley went the extra mile and bound my wrists too. Seriously, what was with the extra security? Who did he think I was, Sophia Hess?
"Lo siento, Taylor. Me habría negado si mi programación lo permitiera," Lopez said. He sounded genuinely upset. Somehow. His voice was still flat with barely any emotion.
I assumed he was apologizing, but I couldn't be sure. I looked at my surroundings and found little but fields of white and distant mountains. Behind the mountains, I saw what looked like the world being stretched and turned upward, forming a ring-like curve that went past my field of vision. It was the same as Blood Gulch, though I doubted we were anywhere close to the canyon, much less on the same planet.
Were all worlds shaped like rings in this place?
"Lopez," I asked. "Where exactly am I?"
"Sidewinder," the robot replied in English.
I furrowed my brow. The name didn't ring any bells, unfortunately. Before I could ask him where the possessed medic was, I heard a familiar obnoxious voice shouting from behind. "Lopez! What have I said about talking with the wildlife?!"
"Fuck you," I bit out.
The purple-armored 'medic' appeared from behind the tree. "Oh, great, she's awake," Omega/O'Malley groaned. "Just what I need, a chatty hostage!"
"Again. Fuck. You."
"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he snickered.
DuFresne sighed. "I would be too if I got kidnapped and nearly blown up by a tank."
"What was that?" the A.I. growled.
He sighed again. "Nothing…"
Jesus, they sound like some married couple.
"Again, I'd like to say I'm really sorry," DuFresne apologized.
"Oh, for the love of evil, quit apologizing!"
…y'know, I didn't think he could sound anymore like a classic B-movie villain, but there he goes, proving me wrong. For as intimidating and dangerous as Omega/O'Malley is, he's like an idiot. The cynic in me wanted to believe it was an act, a means to make people underestimate him, but then I remembered Blood Gulch and its occupants. Maybe Blood Gulch was unique and was the only place in the world to host all sorts of idiots, or maybe everyone in this place was nuts.
Regardless, it didn't change the fact that the A.I. was dangerous or that DuFresne was as much a hostage as I was.
"And as for you," Omega/O'Malley said. "You're going to sit, nice and comfortably, while I deal with those pesky friends of yours."
I should have felt relieved to know the others were coming to rescue me, but instead, I felt an odd sense of dread. Why did I have such a bad feeling about this? "What are you plotting?"
"Oh, that is the question, now isn't it?" he laughed. "I could tell you my plans, but where would the fun in that be? No, I think you'll have to learn it for yourself. Now!" Omega/O'Malley rounded on Lopez. "Come, my robotic minion! We have work to do! I still need to perform the final touches before those idiots discover us!"
"Si, maestro," Lopez bowed. He followed the possessed 'medic', though not before giving me a pointed look. As he walked away, I heard a soft crunch next to me. I looked down by my feet and saw what looked like a switchblade.
I smiled under my helmet, making a mental note to double my efforts in learning Spanish so I could thank that robot the next time I saw him.
Church wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that it hadn't been an hour since the rescue mission started and things already went to shit in a handbasket or that his migraine hadn't ceased. Caboose was nowhere near him and Grif was surprisingly amicable company (well, barring the smell of course. When was the last time that fatass bathed?), yet his head was still hurting. It was like someone was taking a chisel to the back of his head and stabbing his brain. If he still had one. He had to remind himself he didn't have a brain anymore and that his current body was robotic.
He didn't get how he could still feel pain even as a ghost, or why his head was hurting so bad. Was it some sort of backlash from being in Doc's head? Or was it because of O'Malley? The possession was brief, and he didn't get a peak at went on within the so-called medic's head, but something happened. He just couldn't remember what.
No, that wasn't entirely true. There was one thing that stood out to him.
Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.
Church was no stranger to anger. Considering he dealt with idiocy and Caboose on a daily basis, he was usually frustrated at best or furious at worst. Tucker's antics and Caboose being, well, Caboose never failed to make him angry.
Yet for some reason, those words elicited a fury in him he never knew existed.
"Uh, you doin' okay there?"
Church took a deep breath, putting the thought out of his mind. He could deal with…whatever this was another time. For now, he had to focus on getting out of this place. The sooner they rescued Lopez and Hebert, the better. Who knows? Maybe Tex was back and they could have a proper discussion for once! Figure out where things stood. Convince her to stay. Lord knew he needed all the help he could get.
"Tucker, seriously, you need to rest," Donut said for the umpteenth time. "You're gonna pull something!"
Texas never thought she would say or think this, but she begrudgingly admitted to admiring Tucker for his stubborness. Tanking a rocket explosion point-blank was nothing to sneeze at, especially for someone who barely qualified as a soldier. He was moaning and groaning in pain, barely conscious by the time she was cognizant enough to jump into the nearest robot body, but he managed to recover. In spite of his injuries, he was trying to bulldoze his way past Donut and hop into the teleporter.
Evidently, panic and anger were good motivators. Learning Taylor was still in Omega's clutches was enough to get him going.
"Fuck that," Tucker bit out. "Taylor's in danger! I can't just—agh!"
Still, as much as she liked seeing him in pain while also demonstrating he could be a decent human being at times, she knew better than to enable suicidal idiocy. "You're not exactly in any position to be going in after them," she pointed out. "Plus, you won't be much help. Just take five, Tucker."
Tucker glared at her through his helmet. "But—!"
"We'll get her back. I promise."
Tex could tell he wasn't happy, but he backed down regardless. She would smile if she could.
"So, what do we do while we wait for them to get back to us?" Donut asked. "I mean, I'm more than happy to talk about Chantilly lace."
Please don't, Tex thought.
"Please don't," Tucker echoed. "And what makes you think they will? I mean, no offense to you man, but have you seen our teams? We suck. It's a miracle we get anything done!" He paused. "Well, except for Sheila. It's kind of sad that the only actual good team member on Blue Team 'sides Taylor is a tank."
"Why, thank you!" Sheila chirped. "I am very happy to contribute."
"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Tex complained.
Tucker gave her a pointed look. "Uh, you're a freelancer. You work for whoever pays you more, so you're really not on Blue Team."
"I'm helping you, aren't I?"
"Yeah, but we're also working with the Reds at the moment, so technically, you're helping them, too."
…Well, shit. She had to give him that.
"Do you think that Taylor friend of yours will be okay?" Donut asked worriedly. "I mean, after we blew him up, O'Malley seemed really angry. Like, really really really angry."
That was another thing that worried Tex, more so than the fact a civilian was caught up in all this.
Even without a host influencing him, Omega was violent. He was perpetually angry, simply because that was the basis of his existence. He was born from anger, and therefore, he was always angry. There was no excuse, no reason, no justification beyond meaning. The only way his anger could be tempered was if he possessed a mild-mannered host. With her, Omega was at his best because he had someone competent. As disgusting as it sounded, Tex and Omega were meant for each other because she understood his anger. She knew how to tame, how to control, how to direct it for her own purposes. With people like Caboose and Doc, he was subdued to an extent. He wasn't as angry because his hosts lacked a certain capacity for it, but that meant he had to express his rage via other means.
Based on what she knew and observed, Doc was the least threatening person in Blood Gulch, not to mention a total wimp. There was obviously some sort of repressed rage, otherwise Omega never would have gotten such a foothold in him.
And yet…
There's no way *that* happened, right?
Church seemed fine, if agitated when he came to. Then again, he was always irritated, but something about his temper seemed different. Tex didn't want to assume the worst case, especially not with Omega.
Something else also bothered Tex. Taylor Hebert had been in Blood Gulch for some time now, even though VIC and Command were doing their best to find a way to contact her guardians. The girl was genuine about how she came to Blood Gulch, but the fact that she was still here raised more than a few alarm bells. There was no way the Director didn't know about Taylor being here, so why hadn't he done anything? Even if they used the flimsy excuse of still looking for her guardian, there was no reason to keep her in Blood Gulch. Not unless they wanted her there.
Tex didn't want to consider it, not when it meant there were lines the Director was willing to cross.
It took twenty minutes of improvised planning, half of which nearly resulted in me nearly losing a toe, but I managed to cut through my bindings. I was definitely going to double down on learning Spanish when I got back to Blood Gulch.
Unfortunately, just because I was now free didn't mean I was safe. Omega/O'Malley could return at any moment, and I couldn't risk using my radio to contact Vic or the Reds and Blues. There was a chance he screwed with my radio or found a way to listen in. In any case, I couldn't afford to sit around and do nothing.
I could only hope that whoever was in that base in the distance were more sensible than the idiots I had to deal with…
Spoiler alert: They weren't. They really weren't.
Last edited:
rocketmce
Sentient horror novel
- Location
- The Warp
Glad to see this back! Never enough RvB stories floating around, and seeing Taylor's patented ingenuity and escalation interacting with the rest of the universe is bound to have interesting consequences down the road.
I wonder how many people are going to end up regretting the decision to piss off our favorite queen of escalation?
I wonder how many people are going to end up regretting the decision to piss off our favorite queen of escalation?
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Oh, that's probably real bad. RvB AI are basically on Halo AI, and Church is a really fucked over version of that. Him not remembering uh, everything, was the only thing keeping him functional.
Still, I'm surprised this fic is headed for Chorus. I liked the Chorus arc, so that's good for me, but I figured this would've been headed back to Brockton first. Going through at least 13 seasons is no small thing, and I think would also take a months, maybe even a year in story.
infinityDivided
Prince Of Doom
- Location
- USA
The fuck.
...Oh right, Taylor's power is ripping open wormholes to plot-relevant worlds.
- Location
- USA
So I didn't see anything past Season 5, but in the Chorus section they mention she survived a Megaton Bomb which I believe is the end of Season 3 so I think she may jump there and skip the intervening seasons.
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
Just to clarify something here, Taylor did not jump through time. Note that Donald says he's the ASSISTANT SECRETARY to the Brigadier. At this point in time, neither Felix nor Locus have arrived on Chorus nor has the conflict escalated to the point where Doyle and Kimbal are in charge of their respective factions.
I'm making it clear that there will be no time-traveling shenanigans whatsoever...which will be double hilarious when Taylor does make it back to the Blood Gulch Crew.
I'm making it clear that there will be no time-traveling shenanigans whatsoever...which will be double hilarious when Taylor does make it back to the Blood Gulch Crew.
Tenno Drifter
IT WAS ALREADY ON FIRE WHEN I GOT HERE
I don't think it's supposed to have the non-
Looking forwards tocreading more. And am very curious what caused Taylor to teleport again. Makes me wonder if the freelancer program realised there was something odd with her and left her in Blood Gultch to atudy. Ai is their primary, but i could see a desperate director searching for a way to bring her back. Rather tragic really
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
He already tried digging a copy of Alison out of his own head. Looking for her in other realities might be more practical.
Adrian899
A regular crossover reader and occasional writer.
- Location
- Somewhere in Canada
- Pronouns
- He
From the words from the recent chapter, it's as if Taylor has experienced time travel itself. And again, it could be planetary teleportation from what I can assume.
#2-2 - From the Top (AKA Taylor goes to Jail)
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
#2-2
From the Top
(AKA Taylor Goes to Jail)
"Grif, so help me god, if you don't stop playing that fucking harmonica in the next five seconds…!"From the Top
(AKA Taylor Goes to Jail)
"Alright, alright! Sheesh, what crawled up your ass and died?"
"Where did you even get that thing anyway?!"
"What, this? It was under the bed."
"Shut it, you idiots!" the jailer shouted. "And listen up! Today's your lucky day. You have a new cellmate."
"TAYLOR?!"
I didn't even get a chance to say anything as the guard rudely kicked me into the cell and slammed the door shut. An electric whine ran in the cold halls of the base seconds later, indicating the cell was now locked tight. I didn't have to see the guard's face to know he was sneering at me.
I hadn't even made it ten steps inside when soldiers in white and red colors suddenly swarmed me like a PRT troop. They wouldn't even let me get a word in edgewise and assumed I was some sort of saboteur or spy. Needless to say, not a good first impression.
Well, I suppose I could have been worse. Church and Grif aren't exactly the worst company. Maybe. Church was an asshole and I doubt a few minutes would change that, and I still didn't know much about Grif beyond how he stinks or how his armor is literally bulging to contain his girth.
"You're okay?!" Grif shouted. "But, I saw you get taken?!"
"Lopez freed me," I replied. "Left me with a knife before he went with DuFresne, who I should mention is still being Mastered by Texas' A.I."
Church groaned. "Fantastic."
"What about Lopez? How was he doin'?"
"In the middle of being brainwashed, I think."
"Oh yay, that'll make Sarge happy," Grif groaned before he walked over to one of the beds and plopped down on it. I frowned in confusion. "Welp, glad to know the rescue operation is a success. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some Z's to catch."
What.
"We're in a prison cell," Church yelled. "How can you possibly think that…" He trailed off and stared with me at the absurd sight in front of us. Namely, the sight of Dexter Grif snoring his ass off. He hadn't even been on that bed for a minute and he was already asleep.
I genuinely didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed.
"Un-fucking-believable," Church groaned. "I never thought I would ever, ever say this…but I wish I got stuck with Caboose."
"How did you wind up with Grif?" I asked. "Actually, where even are we?"
"It's like this…"
From there, Church explains everything to me as best he can. The Reds and Blues teamed up to rescue me and Lopez from O'Malley/Omega, using the same teleporter he used to escape from Blood Gulch. Unfortunately, they quickly hit a snag as they didn't bother to check whether the teleporter had been tampered with, resulting in everyone except for Donut and Tucker being split up. Grif and Church wound up being teleported right outside the base where a soldier discovered them.
Church was taken in because he was a member of Blue Team, with Grif being taken under suspicion of being a traitor.
"Paranoid, much?" I asked in exasperation.
Church shrugged. "Best guess is that they got screwed over hardcore thanks to Tex."
"What does Tex have to do with this?"
The so-called sniper of Blue Team sighed. "It's a long story. Short version is that I was stationed here on Sidewinder couple years ago. One day, Tex showed up and killed everyone at my outpost. Not just here, but Red Team too. I don't get all the specifics, but I think it had something to do with O'Malley and the Reds stiffing her on payment."
"She…wouldn't do that, would she?" My interaction with the Freelancer had been brief, but she didn't strike me as the type who would slaughter everyone and her employer over a money dispute.
Then again, I didn't expect Emma to be a backstabbing bitch.
"Trust me, she would," Church said. "In any case, we ain't getting out of here anytime soon. Fuck, I really hope the others are having better luck than we are."
I gave him a flat stare.
"What?"
Sarge was conflicted.
On the one hand, a glorious battle between Red and Blue unfolded right before his very eyes. It was a thing of beauty to watch rockets blow Blues to bits, mowed down with auto rifles, and his personal favorite, executed by shotgun. On the other hand, the Reds were below sub-standards. In fact, Sarge was hesitant to call them Reds at all. They were erratic, balls-to-the-walls Grif-level insane, and possibly bonkers. Not in that order.
They were also unhealthily obsessed with the flag, though damned if he knew why.
In any case, the rescue mission suffered an immense setback right off the gate. For once, he couldn't blame the Blues, either. That bloodthirsty A.I. was cunning! Maybe he could convince him to join Red Team? Wait, wouldn't he have to recruit Doc too? Shit. That might be a deal breaker.
"Mister Sargent!" Caboose yelled worriedly just as a stray bullet whizzed past his helmet, reminding Sarge they were in the middle of a battlefield.
Normally, Sarge would grab his shotgun and dive headfirst into battle. As much as he loved blood and violence as the next glorious Red soldier, however, these soldiers seemingly came back from the dead. It made no sense so he assumed they were some kind of special but defective super-soldier squad. His next guess was zombies, though he had yet to hear any of them mumble about brains. Whatever the zealots may be, they would come back from the dead and continue to charge at them until they were well and truly dead.
The thought of dying against unending hordes of enemies was tempting, but it would be a cold day in hell before Sarge would ever die at the hands of a no-good dirty Blue.
"Okay, Caboose," Sarge began. "We need to think of a plan."
"I have an idea!"
Why did he have such a bad feeling about this? "Okay, lay it on me, then. What's the plan, Blue?"
"Whisper whisper whisper."
"…that's it? You just said whisper whisper whisper."
"Sorry."
It wasn't often Sarge felt sorry for a dirty Blue. Caboose was probably touched in the head. He'd have to have a talk with Church when this is over.
The fighting intensifies. Sarge grabbed Caboose and went for higher ground. By that point, gunfire and rockets were flying everywhere. It was a glorious yet oddly horrific sight to behold. Some of the soldiers even directed their attention to them and started shooting, forcing the two to take cover behind a rock.
"I wish Church was here," Caboose sighed. "Church could handle this. Church can handle anything!"
"I wish Grif was here," Sarge huffed. "He makes an excellent meat shield, let me tell you!"
"Sarge? Sarge!"
"You say somethin'?"
It took Sarge a moment to realize the voice wasn't Caboose. It was Simmons!
"Simmons? Fixed communications I see! About time!"
"Er, not really. I'm just piggybacking off the systems in this place to contact you. I'm trying to jury-rig the transporters here and link them to the teleporter at your location, but it's slow going! I should be able to get you out in five minutes!"
Sarge swore. "We do not have five minutes! While I am all for blood and violence any day of the week, it's hard to enjoy the sight of a dead Blue when they get right back up like nothing happened!"
"Wait, what? A-are you in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?"
"KILL THE REDS! KILL THE REDS! KILL THE REDS!"
"KILL THE BLUES! KILL THE BLUES! KILL THE BLUES!"
"That answer your question?"
Simmons took that as his cue to leave and get to work. Sarge glanced back at the ongoing war below and pumped his shotgun. Dying to a Blue wasn't the ideal way to go, but he would settle for taking some of them with him to Hell. Just as he was about to get into the thick of the action and deliver some special shotgun Red Army justice, he heard grunting. He looked over at Caboose and found him huffing and groaning, fists clenched and back haunched.
"Caboose, what are you doing?"
"Trying to…" the Blue grunted. "Get… Angry. O'Malley taught me…how to…be…angry… I just…have…to remember…!"
This boy's gone crazy, Sarge thought. Anger was a good motivator as any, but if he were being honest, the Blue just didn't seem the type to actually get angry.
Then he felt the air shifted. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and every fiber of his being screamed at him to get the fuck away.
Caboose bellowed an impressive battle cry and leaped off the edge, diving into the earth. The ground cracked under him on impact. The fighting stopped. Everyone's attention was on the blue-armored soldier.
"My name…" Caboose growled in a deep voice. "Is Michael J. Caboose. And I! Hate! BABIES!"
What happened next was nothing short of beauty. Within seconds, Caboose was wreaking havoc on the battlefield. Soldiers were sent flying not with rockets, but with good ol' fashioned fists. Trees were uprooted and used as makeshift bats to sweep away entire scores of enemy combatants. His every shot with his pistol was that of an expert marksman, hitting every soldier dead in the forehead. Caboose fearlessly charged through the hordes like a battle ox, stomping right on through and sending everyone caught in his path flying.
Panic erupted on both sides. The Blues were confused, not understanding why someone on their side was attacking them while the Reds opened fire and started fighting for dear life. Caboose was killing them faster than they could come back.
"Who the hell let this guy in the lobby?!"
"Alright, who gave him God Mode?!"
"Hax! I call fucking hax!"
"AYEEEEEEE!"
"RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! IT'S THE ANTI-FLAG!"
Sarge stared numbly at the display of carnage. He looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "On the one hand, a no-good dirty Blue, and on the other hand, a god among men… Hrm, wonder what it'd take to get Caboose to switch sides?"
"Okay, I've got good news and bad news," Tex said. "Which do you guys want first?"
"Let's get the bad news outta the way first," Tucker said. At this point he was mostly healed up. His body hurt like hell, but nowhere near the point where it he didn't feel like throwing up.
Tex looked at him. "You got tagged. Someone put a contract on you, and one of my buddies is gonna collect. A guy I used to run with, goes by Wyoming."
"Like the state?"
She nodded. "All Freelancers are named after countries in the United States. My codename speaks for itself, I should think."
"So there's fifty of you?"
"Forty-nine," she corrected. "Remember what happened to Florida?" Officially, the sinking of Florida was used as justification for Agent Florida's termination from the Freelancer program. In reality, it was just an excuse to relocate him elsewhere without people asking questions. Idly, Tex wondered what Tucker and Church would say if they found out their late Captain was a member of Project Freelancer.
Tucker shook his head. "Great, so I'm being targeted by one of your old buddies." He looked up at her hopefully. "I, uh, don't suppose you'd be willing to let me take out a loan…?"
"Tell you what, I'll do this for you as a favor."
"So long as I don't gotta do gay stuff."
"So, what's the good news?" Donut asked.
Tex flicked a thumb over at the teleporters atop Red Base. "Simmons managed to get in touch with me. He's rerouting the teleporters so we'll be able to rendevouz with each other. Oh, and Taylor's safe, by the way."
"That's great!" Donut cheered. Tucker sighed and murmured something under his breath in relief. "Where is she?"
"With Church and Grif. Looks like they're on Sidewinder."
Fucking Omega, Tex seethed. You just have to rub salt in the wound, don't you?
The last time she went to Sidewinder, she lost a friend and witnessed another falling to her death. She still remembers it, the sight of Carolina, frightened and shocked, as a white-armored brute threw her into the sub-zero oceans below.
The fact Omega chose Sidewinder of all places wasn't a coincidence. The little shit was mocking her, its way of getting back at her for finally cutting him out of her life. Until now, she only kept him around as a necessity, but Blood Gulch gave her the opportunity to finally be rid of him.
She hoped she would have been able to kill the damn thing in Caboose's head, but it slipped away thanks to Doc. This time, she wouldn't let him escape. Especially now. If her theory was right, then she couldn't let Omega and Church interact again. The problem now was ensuring Omega's deletion. Going after him like before wouldn't work, so she would have to get creative. Worst case scenario, Doc had to die.
It wouldn't be the first time someone had to die for the sake of a mission.
Suddenly, Tex's comms crackled to life. "Everyone, I have good news! Connection between teleporters here and Outpost #1 is established. You are good to go!"
"Nice job, nerd!" Tucker cheered. "Alright, now we can really get this rescue mission going!"
"Um, about that…"
Tex frowned. She did not like that tone. "Did something happen?"
The maroon-colored soldier sighed. "It-it's like this. When Sarge built the robots you and Church are possessing, he added in some extra features. Your body has a bug in it. Idea was that we could listen in on the Blues."
"Pal, the only thing you would have had to listen to is these idiots arguing," Tex chortled. "Or bitching. Depends on the day of the week. And if you're really lucky, you get to hear Tucker get all hot and bothered by his rock."
"Whoa, hey now! Let's not bring up dirty laundry!" Tucker exclaimed quickly. "Wait, if Tex has a listening device, then what feature does Church have?"
"A, uh… A megaton bomb."
Silence hung in the air.
"If, um, it's any consolation, we didn't pull the trigger on that one. That was Caboose. He was really excited about pushing buttons."
Tex dragged her hand down her helmet.
"That's…" Donut gulped. "That's pretty bad, isn't it?"
Tucker's reaction was far more explosive. "God fucking dammit, Caboose!"
Tenno Drifter
IT WAS ALREADY ON FIRE WHEN I GOT HERE
I always forget how terrifying caboose actually is, thank God he's a dumbass
Someone so idiotic that God decided to counterbalance it with immense strength.
- Location
- United States Of America
In some ways that just makes it worse.
- Location
- Lost to the Depths of the Deep Web
Sounds like an Ogryn from 40K just slightly more dumb