AN: A big thanks to my beta reader AuroraBlix, you are awesome! Also, go read her stories; they totally rock!

Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth, not me. I make no profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter One

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Kaikaina Grif slammed her hand down on the obnoxiously beeping alarm clock for the third time as she heard her brother calling her from the kitchen,"Enough snoozing munchkin! It's game day!"

"I'm up! Quit your yelling!" Kai yelled just as loudly back. She rolled out of bed and stretched her muscular limbs thoroughly before going into the bathroom to begin her usual morning ablutions. She could smell the Spam and eggs Dexter was cooking as she brushed out her long coffee colored hair and washed her face. She walked back into her room and slid out of her pajamas, tossing them aside and squeezing into a high school cheer leading uniform and a pair of shoes so white they practically glowed. Dexter was just placing her plate of breakfast on the kitchen table as she plopped herself down in a chair.

"Is all your homework done?" Dexter asked.

"Yes, I finished it last night, I told you," Kai replied exasperatedly.

"Now remember, please try to cheer for the right team this time. They won't let you back on the squad a third time. At least the teams aren't the same colors this time. That should help," Dexter ran his fingers through his long dread locks, the way Kai knew he always did when he was stressed.

"It's not my fault! I'm colorblind!" she whined.

"Don't give me that bullshit. You can read the team names on the jerseys. You see every one of those people at school on a daily basis," Dexter glared at her.

"Yeah, but the boys on that other team were so much cuter," Kai pouted.

"Don't even get me started on boys again!" Dexter looked a little panicked. "I've already taken you to the clinic twice."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kai rolled her eyes. "Are you coming to the game?" She asked to change the subject. Dexter sighed. "Right, you have to work," she said dully.

"I'm sorry Sister. Really, I am," Dexter tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"It's no big deal, really. I know it's – bills and stuff," Sister shrugged.

"Yeah," Dexter looked a bit downtrodden.

"You know, I'm sure Mom just got distracted somewhere. She'll call any day to tell us her latest adventures and that she's transferring us some money."

"Sister … " Dexter couldn't quite meet her eyes, or finish the sentence. Mom hadn't sent money in two years, since he was eighteen. Dexter just couldn't quite bear to rain on his sister's eternally sunny disposition.

"Grif, I'm not stupid. I know how hard you have to work for me. I know what you've had to give up. I know Mom is probably gone for good. I just prefer to think positive. She worked hard for us too, you know."

"I know. That's what I love about you, Sister. You're always so positive. Someone's got to offset all my negative energy, right? Now hurry up, the bus is here."

Sister grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. "I'm off to kick ass and take names. Love you bro!"

"Love you too." After a moment Sister heard him shout his usual afterthought out the door behind her, "Don't embarrass the family!" Grif then finished up his own breakfast, put the dishes in the washer, and headed out to start his own day at the auto parts shop he had been working for since their mother had left to join the circus four years previously.

It was a pretty typical day of taking people's money and complaints, and telling the mechanic how to do his job, and Grif had time to go home for lunch. He grabbed the mail out of the box and switched on the television as he came into the kitchen. Grif tossed the bills and junk mail onto the kitchen table and reached into the fridge for the pizza left over from the night before. As it reheated, he watched the television, not really paying much attention as it relayed the latest Grifball scores and Covenant attacks on outlying ships and planets. He sighed. He had once thought he'd like to join up and kill some aliens. He liked the idea of adventure and glory. He supposed he got that from his father. Mom had always told them stories about the daring and adventurous stunt pilot that was the only man she had ever loved. He, according to Mom, had loved her and their kids too but "couldn't be tamed" enough to settle down and help raise them. Mom said he and Kai were smart like Dad, adventurous and good with vehicles. Grif actually believed that last part at least, as he regularly won money in drag races to supplement his income. He could have been a mechanic; it payed better than working in the store. Grif figured he would work his way up to being a manager quicker, and have infinitely higher pay and hiring potential, if he dealt with customers and paperwork as well, despite how much he hated it. It was also for the connections – his boss's brother worked in the Honolulu police department, so Grif had been able to put together a legal community racing group with his help. The man looked the other way when there was gambling going on, because Grif had almost single handed gotten young people who were doing dangerous racing off the streets. They all came to Honolulu PD's sponsored events now. Besides, Grif knew he needed the cops on his side when Sister entered high school and he realized how often he'd be beating teenage boys to a pulp to keep them away from her.

Sister had insisted on skipping a grade so that she could graduate early and get a job. She didn't want Grif to have to keep taking care of her. Grif had argued at first, fearing that she'd fall behind in classes or have trouble dealing with the older students, but in the end he was thankful for it. He didn't know how long he could keep the free-spirited girl out of trouble. Sister had done just fine in her classes so far, even tested out of a few of them. While she wasn't particularly clever – Grif had gotten all the logic of the family – Sister could memorize anything almost instantly. Grif often wondered if she had an eidetic memory, despite it being said that such a thing didn't actually exist. She knew almost as much about vehicle maintenance as he did, just from sitting with him as he worked on cars. She didn't figure things out on her own, but once it was explained to her she knew how it worked. She read her text books, absorbed the information like a sponge, and aced her tests. So long as he reminded her to actually turn in her homework, she got decent grades. Grif figured it was god's way of compensating for excessive ditziness – most people thought Sister was an idiot.

And Sister let them go on thinking it, which bugged Grif. She could have been a star at school, but preferred to let people think she was mediocre. She said the girls weren't as mean if she wasn't a threat, and the boys weren't as intimidated if she wasn't smarter than them. Grif couldn't fault the girl for knowing her priorities. Sister openly admitted that she just wanted to have fun and kiss boys (Or anyone, really). He could fault the priorities themselves, but not that Sister knew and held to hers so adamantly at such a young age. He blamed himself, of course. He had very specifically not been an over or under achiever during school so that he wouldn't be noticed – for anything, bad or good – so that no one would know their mother had left them without a guardian and only occasionally sent money for rent. And as for Sister running around with boys … after he had beaten up the first few Sister had gotten sneaky about it. And again, he felt it was his fault since he'd punished the guys and not her, but he figured if he'd had a little brother that romantically successful so young he would have been congratulating him. At least one of them was getting laid.

Grif sighed as he munched on his lukewarm pizza, thinking about his odd life and halfway watching footage recovered from the latest Insurrection attack.

"Fucking Innies," he muttered, "don't they know there's a real war on? They may as well go join the fucking Covenant." Grif sighed again and stood, groaned a little, and turned the TV off. "Well, back to work Grif. Sister has her priorities, and keeping a roof over her head is yours," he said to himself.

As he turned to leave something on the table caught his eye. He brushed the other mail aside and picked up a shiny, clear plastic postcard. It was blank except for the UNSC logo in one corner.

"Huh. What in the world?" Suddenly, the UNSC logo enlarged, lit up, and a voice spoke.

"This is an official pre-recorded holo-postcard from the United Nations Space Command. Please remain still while your identity is confirmed," said a pleasant, only slightly robotic, female voice.

"Uh … " Grif was too startled to move as the postcard glowed blue.

"Voice identification accepted. Dexter Grif. Please stand by for message." There was a pause.

"Hello," said a new voice – a man's this time, still pleasant, almost overly soothing. "In this time of war, the worst we have ever known, sometimes desperate measures must be taken. Calculations have been done to determine the exact number of soldiers needed to win this war. Volunteer forces are no longer enough. That is why we have instituted a galaxy wide draft, to draw by lottery more soldiers for the effort against the Covenant. Do your duty – protect your family, our citizens, our way of life, our very existence! Report to your nearest recruiting station tomorrow at 0800 hours for further instructions." The message paused and the original voice came back.

"Message marked as received. Please remember that failure to report for duty as a draftee is considered treason. Have a nice day!"

The blue glow faded and the clear plastic postcard now showed in neat white letters the address of the nearest recruitment center. Grif just stared. His hands were shaking. They shook so hard the card fell from his fingertips to the cheap vinyl tiles of the kitchen floor.

His cell phone rang, jolting him out of his stupor. He fumbled for it in his pocket for a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Grif, where are you? You're late," His boss's voice sounded very far away.

"I'm gonna need the rest of the day off. And tomorrow too."

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is Sister okay?"

"No, we're fine."

"Well, did you get a jury duty summons or something? Come on man, you haven't taken a single day off in the four years I've known you.

"Uh, yeah, something like that. Hey, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Grif, wait a sec – " He hung up the phone and dropped heavily back into his chair, taking in deep gulps of air.

"Well, fuck," he said to himself, thinking of what he had wanted when he was younger. "I guess now I know why they say be careful what you wish for."

Sister was in the locker room, stretching in the hot shower. The school day had been uneventful for the most part, as was usual. At least, it had been in her mind. She'd had a history test that she could have aced, but purposefully gotten several answers wrong so the girl behind her that always tried to cheat wouldn't get as high of a score. She'd made the kids at the lunch table laugh when she'd said something stupid again. She just couldn't get the right words to come out at the right time. The meaner kids made fun of her; the nicer ones went along with the joke she made of herself being "verbally dyslexic." She liked making people laugh, so she ignored the mean kids. There was a boy she didn't like in gym that kept flirting with her and then calling her a slut behind her back. She didn't mind him calling her a slut. She minded him being too coward to say it to her face. She threw a basketball and hit him in the face when the coach wasn't looking. The coach yelled at him for being clumsy and sent him to the nurse for a broken nose. Sister had always been strong. So yeah, all in all, a normal day.

The cheer leading squad was getting ready for the game that night, and she heard the other girls discussing what she had done. Whispering about it, actually. About how she was raised by her brother and a circus freak mom, and that's why she was "like that" or, "troubled" as the nicer girls put it. Sister wasn't overly concerned about it until "Cate the Rumor-monger" joined the conversation.

"You know it's cause she's secretly a boy." several girls snorted with laughter. Sister had been about to step out of the shower stall, but waited.

"No, it's true. That's why Rory transferred to a different school at the end of last semester. She likes girls, remember? And they were always hanging out, you know? And when Rory found out Sister was a boy, she was traumatized."

"Don't be stupid Cate. Rory likes boys too," one of the other girls replied. This caused Cate to pause, flustered, and rethink her strategy.

"Yes, but she liked Tom, remember? And Tom and Sister were seen making out around the same time. It was quite the scandal."

"Oh sure, the guy you like conveniently turns out to be gay when he starts dating someone other than you," the girl chuckled. Most people knew not to take Cate seriously.

Sister however, had had enough of this entirely shitty day. She stepped out of the shower, still dripping, and didn't bother with a towel.

"Just to clarify – " she said loudly, and the other girls turned around. There were some squeals, some laughs, and some comments of, "Jesus, Sister, cover up!"

" – First of all," she said, hands on her hips, "clearly not a dude." Cate was staring, mortified. "Secondly, yes I made out with Tom, but that was to give him a goodbye kiss from Rory after her dad got transferred to California for work. Thirdly, I have it on good authority, namely my own, that Rory and Tom are both much better kissers than you, Cate." Sister smirked.

Cate shrieked with anger and lunged at Sister, going in for a slap. Sister caught the other girl's wrist in the air with one hand and slammed her other fist into the girl's face. Cate hit the ground.

And that was how Sister ran onto the basketball court with bandaged knuckles to cheer that night, and Cate with a bandaged nose. Sister was a base and Cate was a flier, and they performed their routines perfectly under the watchful eye of their coach – a retired drill sergeant who believed in settling scores between team mates with fists, not detentions, so long as they 'got the job done' when cheering. He was completely fine with Cate's "mutinous" attitude, as he called it, being beaten out of her.

So focused was Sister on not purposefully letting Cate hit the ground, that it took her a while to notice what was different that night. As the buzzer sounded for half time and Sister high-fived her friend Tom as he ran by heading for the locker-room, he said, "Hey, nice job with Cate earlier. Isn't that your brother in the stands? It's cool that he could make it tonight." Tom disappeared into the locker room as Sister whirled to face the stands. Sure enough, Grif was coming down the bleachers toward her. She grinned happily and ran to meet him.

"I thought you had to work!" The grin left her own face as she saw the look on her brother's. Grif saw her concern and tried to smile weakly. It didn't work. His hands were shaking again, and he tried to still them as Sister reached for him.

"What's wrong?" Sister demanded

"Your coach told me you've been fighting again. Sister, you have to stop. You can't get in trouble!"

"I didn't get in trouble. She deserved it. Now what's wrong?"

"Kaikaina, I don't doubt it, but this is serious. You have to promise me that you'll be good and stay out of trouble from now on. No matter what."

"Grif. What. Is. Wrong."

"I've … I've been drafted into the marines."

" … What!?"