Red vs. Blue: Beginnings

Chapter 1: The Arrival

Red Base

The pelican drop ship came to a landing near Blood Gulch's red base, a.k.a. Blood Gulch Outpost Number 1. The ramp descended, ready to unleash the finest soldiers that the UNSC had to offer, warriors of the SPARTAN program that would be thrust into battle against the vicious forces of the Covenant that were bent on humanity's destruction.

No doubt a historian or storyteller would want to say this, but that would, simply put, be a lie. Two soldiers dressed in SPARTAN armour casually walked out, armed with nothing but pistols. The pelican flew off. No anti-aircraft fire accompanied it, no explosions or sirens could be heard. After the aircraft was out of sight and hearing, the only sounds that could be heard were bird noises from birds they couldn't see. Private First Class Dick Simmons and Private Dexter Griff slowly looked at each other. More bird noises.

"So where are the aliens?" Griff asked.

Blue Base

When stationed on Sidewinder, Private Leonard Church wondered what the point of such a base was. A planet made entirely out of ice, no valuable resources, far out of way from the advancing Covenant front (though that was a good thing) and fighting against a bunch of red idiots alongside a bunch of blue idiots (except Private Jimmy, poor guy). With the decimation of his squad, Blue Command had decided that the base, due to the presence of only one soldier, was no longer tactically useful. How did it take the wholesale slaughter of good men (idiots) to make the even bigger idiots up at command to realize that that was the situation from the frickin start?

Upon arriving at Blood Gulch, Church had felt that it was a change for the better. He was in a much more favorable climate, his experiences on Sidewinder would make the soldiers look up to him with the respect that he deserved (he had his own cobalt armour after all) and, according to the briefing, he'd be rounding up the squad to make a total of three. That was good. Less idiots to work with, and even if they weren't idiots (slim chance), there was still the underlying fact that he'd be working with less people. The experience of being himself wouldn't be watered down so much.

"It was all too much to hope for," thought Church. "I'm stuck with a private who spends all his time yammering on about chicks or being by his rock doing god knows what and a captain who…ugh."

He'd seen a red ship touch down near red base. He knew that he should report this to Blue Command or Captain Flowers (the former being more preferable), but quite frankly, he just didn't care.

Red Base

Griff and Simmons were staring around. A drab concrete base that was apparently Red Base was near them. A few trees were around; there was some grass, a lot more dirt and…little else.

"Man," said Griff. A travel guide for this place would be the shortest one ever."

"Shut up dumass," replied Simmons. "We've got a situation on our hands."

"Really? I always thought that situations involved something happening or the setup for something to happen. I don't really see how this fits the bill."

Simmons looked around. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Hey, I'm always right," Griff protested.

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Griff, looking around for something that would allow him to state the obvious, yet not so obvious that he'd look like a total noob. "Um, you're amour's red."

"No it's not," replied Simmons. "My armour is maroon."

"O-kay," said Griff slowly. "Then what colour is my armour?"

"Not quite orange or yellow, but somewhere in between," replied Simmons simply. "The kind of colour a lemon turns after it's been left in the sun too long."

"Jackass."

"Ladies! Quit yur bitchin and get over 'ere!" shouted out a voice that hailed from southern states. They saw that a soldier in genuine red armour had just come out of the base. No doubt this was their sergeant. "Yes sir!" responded Simmons, jogging over. Griff reluctantly followed.

"Sorry fer takin so long," he said gruffly. "Had to make sure ma shotgun was in perfect working order."

"Excellent line of thought sir!" replied Simmons instantaneously. Griff was less enthusiastic.

"But you haven't even brought it out with you," he pointed out. "All you've got is your pistol. Why waste time on a shotgun that you're not even going to use in the near future?"

The sergeant glared at Griff. He then turned to Simmons. "What's yer name son?" he asked.

"Private Simmons sir!"

"Well Simmons, how'd you like to be the one to supervise Griff doing two-hundred push-ups?"

"I'd be honoured sir!"

"Good. I'll be back out soon. Spray a bulls eye on our number three soldier while yer at it. I've got a boom stick to retrieve." With that, he walked back inside. Simmons pointed his pistol at Griff. Sighing, he got down and started. The chances of him fighting aliens didn't look so promising. He didn't even have any Oreos with him.