Okay, I would like those of you who actually read the authors notes (which is very few, I believe) to know that this is basically my first official attempt at a fanfiction. Unofficially, I've written other pieces, but I didn't think them of high enough quality to post on the internet. But don't let my lack of experience affect your judgment in any way. All I want is the brutally honest truth from those of you who actually decide to review.

This fic is rated in a pretty high T because of the typical Red vs. Blue stuff. If you don't know what that means, there is a lot of swearing and quite a few sexual innuendoes. If you're not sure what sexual innuendoes are, run along and ask your parents; trust me, they just LOVE to explain that sort of thing!

Also, you should have a healthy sense of humor concerning your religion, sexuality, favorite franchises, and other such personal criteria. So if you're a religiously fanatical nutjob or a politically correct wimp, this story is not for you. Just a friendly reminder.

Oh, I almost forgot. A passage all in italics are flashbacks, alright? And if you haven't seen Episode 100 of Red vs. Blue, then I suggest you do so before reading. Normally I'd suggest seeing the whole series if you're new to it, but just inform me if any of you are confused, and I'll contact you via PM. Trust me, it'll save a lot of time.

Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue and all affiliated characters are copyrighted property of Rooster Teeth Productions. Any franchises mentioned in the future will be added to this list as they appear.


Oh, the back of my head, he mentally groaned after being knocked to the ground. Numerous multicolored spots danced before his eyes as he attempted to stand up again. When his vision fully cleared, he saw the other residents of Blood Gulch several meters away, save for one.

"Where'd he go? Where'd he go? Is he gone?" he asked frantically, his head sweeping to each of his eight allies in turn.

He suddenly noticed the beeps that were coming through the radio that were gradually increasing in volume. The cobalt soldier cautiously turned around, afraid of who he would see, hoping beyond all hope that it wasn't who he thought it was.

Those hopes where shattered when he spotted a black-armored soldier behind him, gun down by her side and head facing the ground.

"Tex..." he said warily, eyeing the freelancer for any sudden movement.

"Church, run!" she pleaded, her body beginning to quake.

The cobalt-armored Private ran up to her, grabbed hold of her shoulders and shouted, "Tex, don't!"

The beeping stopped, and her shaking soon after. To his great surprise, she held up her left hand and placed it comfortingly on his shoulder. She pulled him closer to her, and her head rested next to his right ear.

His temporary delusion that she had changed her mind was broken by reality when a deep, male voice growled into his ear, "You have no idea what kind of trouble you are in."

Before he could react, the mercenary kneed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The grip on his shoulder tightened, and with a roar of effort, she spun around and tossed him over ten meters, right in the midst of his teammates.

The throaty voice of the villainous AI chuckled as the soldier struggled to stand, even with his team's assistance. He had landed on his left leg awkwardly, and he was pretty sure something was broken.

"Wait, Tex, you don't want to do this!" he cried as she snatched up an abandoned white helmet and sprinted for the nearby Pelican drop ship.

"Sheila, are you ready?" the malicious AI, O'Malley, asked as it and its new host ran up the boarding ramp.

"All systems online," the ship's female AI responded. "Ignition coil activated. Starting thrusters."

Just as the ship's boarding ramp closed, the ship's thrusters activated and blew a torrent of dust into the Red and Blue teams. Church shakily stood up with his arms slung over the shoulders of Privates Caboose and Tucker, two of his fellow Blue Team members in Blood Gulch, when the Pelican hovered shakily into the air.

"Launch when ready," O'Malley ordered as he and his host arrived at the front of the ship.

"Please, take your seats," instructed Sheila. "Launching in three… two…"

"Tex, don't, do this!" Church begged one more time via radio.

"…one…liftoff," Sheila finished as the ship slowly started to ascend.

"Goodbye…" came Tex's solemn voice.

"We have to stop her right NOW!" Church said desperately, turning to Sarge, Red Team's leader.

"No problem-o, Blue," the gruff sergeant responded in his thick southern accent. A click was heard, signifying that Sarge had turned on his radio. "Andy, you there?"

"I'm here, coach!" a highly exited male voice replied.

"What's going on?" asked a confused Church.

"Tex is hooking up Wyoming's helmet to the computer," Andy responded, misunderstanding the question.

"Ready for your job, soldier?" Sarge continued, ignoring Church.

"You bet!"

"Alright, Son, do what you were born to do: detonate."

"Hey, do you want me to start from ten or three?" Andy asked eagerly. "Come on, the suspense will kill 'em!"

By then the ship had cleared the walls of the canyon and was beginning to fly away.

"Ten!"

"I TOLD YOU TO DISABLE THE SHIP-"

"Nine!"

"-NOT DESTROY IT!" Church screamed furiously at the Red Army sergeant.

"Eight!"

The blood-red armored officer shrugged. "Oh well. Score one for the Red Team, I guess."

"Seven!"

"What about my kid?" the cyan-armored soldier on Church's left, Tucker, asked, referring to his alien child onboard the Pelican.

"Six!"

"Oh, right-"

"Five!"

"-score two!" Sarge corrected himself.

"Four!"

"Andy, do-"

"Three!"

"-NOT detonate!" Church ordered. "Can you see where they're-"

"Two!"

"-heading? Do you know where she's going?"

"One!"

Roughly a kilometer above Blood Gulch, there was a brief flash of light…

and the ship was gone.

"…Tex?" Church said in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the spot where the ship was a second before.

"…Boo! No explosion!" a Red soldier in orange armor, Grif, called out before hanging his head low, disappointed. "That sucked…"

Lo and behold, a smear of fire and smoke burst in the sky with a loud crack seconds later.

"…Ha Ha! Blam-o!" Sarge cheered.

"Wow!" shouted another Red, a man in pink armor by the name of Donut. "That explosion was awesome!"

"What explosion?" Grif snapped his gaze skyward again. "I didn't see it! Do it again!"

Church shrugged off his teammates and solemnly hobbled toward Blue base, the tip of his sniper rifle dragging in the dirt at his side. He winced at the pain that shot up his leg every time he moved it, but his mind was on other things.

"Uh, Church?" Tucker asked him tentatively. "What should we do?"

The man in cobalt stopped in his tracks and said over his shoulder, "Do whatever you want. I'm goin' home."

"Yeah, fuck this!" Tucker enthusiastically agreed, following suit along with the three other Blues. Whether he was trying to cheer him up or was simply saying, Church couldn't tell. Then again, he didn't really care.

As he continued walking he could faintly hear Simmons, the Red's former second-in-command in maroon armor, ask "Sarge… are we fighting?"

"No, Simmons," he answered. "I think they've had their ass kicked enough for one day. Let's leave some for tomorrow."


It had been roughly five months since that incident, and yet still Private Leonard Church couldn't help but replay those events in his head. Something just seemed wrong about it…

"Hey, Church," a voice greeted him, snapping his mind back to the present. He was lying on his back on top of one of the flatter boulders near Blue base with his hands behind his head, staring blankly at the sky above him.

Church lifted his head slightly to see a man in cyan armor strolling up to him. "Hey, Tucker," he replied half-heartedly as he went back to gazing at the non-existent clouds.

The Blue Army Private reached the foot of the rock, looked up at Church and asked "What are you doing?"

"Britney-fucking-Spears," the man in cobalt absent-mindedly replied.

"Dude, you're about as close to going at it with her as I am to giving Mewtwo a blowjob," Tucker scoffed.

Church looked over the side of his three-meter high pillar and cocked an eyebrow, despite the fact that he was wearing a helmet. "…What?"

Tucker laughed to himself and said, "I knew that would get your attention."

"Furry asshole," the disgruntled Blue spat as rolled onto his back again and attempted to return to his thoughts.

"Hey, I ain't no furry!" he protested. "I was only saying that to stop you from being emo SOB for five seconds!"

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You know what? Screw you, you fucktard!" Tucker shouted. "Seriously, I come to cheer you up and this is the thanks I get?"

The Private below started to storm off. He didn't get very far when Church stated, "I was thinking."

"Alright," the irritated man breathed, turning on his heel. "Can I join you without you going into PMS mode again?"

Church paused for a second, and finally sighed in defeat. "Sure, if you want to."

After a minute or so of grunts, Tucker heaved himself over the edge next to his friend and lay on his back, panting. "Dude, how did you get up here with your bad leg, anyway?"

Blue Team's sniper caught himself before he let out another sarcastic comment and explained, "Okay, one, I do not have a bad leg. I'm a ghost possessing a robot's body in case you haven't noticed; all I need is some new parts and I'm as good as new. In answer to your question: Out of sheer determination to get away from Doc and Sister."

"What, Caboose isn't on the list?" Tucker chuckled, getting in the same laidback position Church was.

"I've kind of gotten used to him. I mean, sure, he's a fucking retard, but he's okay in my book, I guess."

"We're talking about the same person, right?" the cyan-armored recruit asked disbelievingly, turning his head to face Church.

"Yeah…"

"You sure you're talking about Caboose? OUR Caboose? The guy in regulation blue? The dude who loads his gun with crayons? The full-grown man who doesn't know how babies are made? The idiot who's killed you on two different occasions? THAT Caboose?"

"What, is there a problem with that?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all. No need to get touchy."

The conversation was dropped. After a few more minutes of staring at the sky, Tucker broke the silence once again.

"…What are you thinking about?"

"Why would you want to know?"

"Come on, man! Tell me! I'll tell you what I'm thinking about," Tucker whined.

"Mewtwo's ass?" Church guessed.

"What the hell? Would you just let that go already?"

"Tucker, you aren't going to hear the end of that until the day you die."

"Screw this, I'm leaving!" Tucker exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He threw his legs over the side and readied himself to jump off.

"Sorry, dude, I'm sorry!" Church apologized.

"Promise not to bring that up again?"

"Promise."

"Alright then." Tucker threw his hands back behind his head and turned his gaze skyward once more.

Minutes passed and the silence was broken again, this time by Church. "I was thinking about the incident with O'Malley a while back."

"You're still thinking about that?" Tucker inquired. "Dude, it's almost been a half-a-year. You're going to have to get over it sometime."

"Don't tell me you don't feel anything!" Church blurted, putting his hands behind him to hold himself up. "Your own KID was on that ship!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Tucker replied, his voice as calm as ever. "One of the first things I learned in life, man: Shit happens. Andy blew up, they all died, end of story."

Church couldn't believe what he was hearing. Tucker's lost his child on that ship, and yet he didn't feel anything?

"I mean, we got rid of a rampant AI determined to conquer and/or destroy the universe and stopped him from enslaving an entire alien species to help make it happen. Overall, I think it may be a blessing in disguise," he continued. "Sure T.J. and Tex died, but that also means one less alien baby and one less bitch to worry about."

Church just stared at his teammate, dumbstruck. But that shock turned to anger soon enough.

"What… the fuck… is WRONG with you?" Church seethed, standing upright with his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Lazily turning his head at his enraged comrade's visor-covered face, Tucker said, "Look, when you grow up in a neighborhood where the guy across the street would be just as likely to shoot you as look at you, the first thing you learn is to move on, 'cause if you stand still even for one second, mentally or physically, that gives someone a chance to plant a bullet in your head."

"You won't be able to enjoy life living in the past," Tucker went on. "And that's what you have to do with life: enjoy it. Loosen up. Live for the moment. That's what I do, and I'm one of the happiest guys in the world. Well, without being downright perky. That's Donut's job."

Several moments passed, and Church's hands unclenched and his anger left as quickly as it came. He collapsed next to his friend, sitting up with one leg scrunched against his chest and the other stretched out.

"I… I guess you're right," he admitted. "But still, it doesn't seem to add up."

"How do you figure that?"

"I've been replaying the events over and over in my head, but one thing still doesn't make sense."

"And that would be…?"

"The explosion," Church clarified. "The real explosion came after the ship disappeared."

"But Church, what other explanation could there be?" Tucker questioned. "I just don't see any possible reason that they aren't here right now besides that they got blown up."

"But that's just it. In all of this time that I've been searching, I haven't found a single piece of wreckage. No twisted scraps of metal, no scorched helmets, no dismembered body parts, no… anything."

"So that's why you've been swiping the tank early in the morning and coming back around midnight?"

"I do not come back at midnight!"

"Well, how the fuck should I know what time it is? The sun only sets here every few years!"

"The fact still remains that there isn't a damn piece of evidence that the ship ever existed, which doesn't make sense, right?"

"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe all of it was, y'know, vaporized and crap?" Tucker speculated.

"No… I never thought of that," Church confessed. "But still, I just can't shake this feeling that she's out there, that if I search long and hard enough, maybe a can find her."

Tucker looked like he was about to reply when a female voice from below cut him off. "Yo, Church! Tucker! What are you doin' up there?"

The two peered down at the ground to see a soldier in bright lemon-yellow armor gazing up at them.

"Oh, hey Sister," Tucker greeted. "Me and Church were just talkin', you know, hangin' out." Church stared at him for a second. Was this the same Tucker that had just made a respectable, intelligent argument just moments before?

"Well, then I guess I owe Doc ten bucks," the female rookie groaned. It amazed Church that no matter how sad she tried to sound, her tone was always reminiscent of a peppy cheerleader…

"Why do you owe Doc anything?"

"Oh, me and him made a bet," she clarified gleefully. "I bet him that you two were makin' out, and since you weren't an' all, I guess he wins!"

…it also amazed him at how her thickheaded and clueless demeanor was so akin to a cheerleader.

"…Remind me again why you're here," Church said, trying desperately to resist the temptation to stick her with a plasma grenade.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot!" she exclaimed as though she were oblivious to the fact that she had pissed off the sniper above on no small margin. "It's about Caboose."

"Oh no," Tucker griped. "Did he get his head stuck in the dryer again?"

"No."

"The vacuum cleaner?" Church guessed.

"No."

"The garbage disposal?" Tucker tried again, almost sounding hopeful.

"No; his new toy Shake 'n Bake oven."

"I knew that thing was a deathtrap…" Church muttered under his breath.

As they both were climbing down, Tucker commented, "Y'know, they should really be more specific with those warning label things."

"How so?" Sister asked as they both reached solid ground.

"Like instead of 'not intended for children three or younger', they should put 'not intended for those with the intelligence of a three-year-old.'"

The three of them got a good laugh out of that.

When they were half-way to their base, Tucker abruptly turned and looked toward the caves. Church kept on walking, assuming that the hold up was for some idiotic reason or another. Sister, however, was concerned.

"Tucker… you okay?" Sister asked.

"Yeah," he said, pausing. "I just had the feeling that we were being watched."

"Were we?"

"No, I don't see anyone, and I have the best eyes in this whole fucking gulch!" he boasted, averting his eyes from the cave entrance. "I guess I'm just being paranoid."

"Would you two douchebags hurry it up?" Church yelled from the base's closest entrance. "You guys are slower than Grif!"

"Quit talking about my big brother, you fat bastard!" Sister shouted back.

The two of them started running back to the base, but Tucker slowed down and stopped completely. He glanced back at the cavern entrance and saw a figure in a brown, hooded robe looking back at him.

He blinked his eyes and shook his head. When he looked back at that spot, the figure was gone. Though he was slightly unnerved, he strolled into Blue base, clutching his head and muttering something about spending too much time at his rock.


At the mouth of the very cave that the Blue Army private was eyeing a moment before, there was a man-sized shimmer in the air, appearing similar to how faraway objects appeared warped in a heat wave. There was a small crackle of electricity, and a figure in a brown robes appeared.

The stranger was presumably female, judging from the form that the robe wrapped around. A hood covered the being's face, so no facial features could be seen. However, two silvery ponytails slithered out from either side of the head and draped over its chest, both fastened with three golden clasps each.

Several droning beeps emanated from inside its robes, and the individual reached within its folds with a wrinkled, human hand. When its right hand withdrew it held a small, microphone-like object about the length of a pen in its bony fingers. With a flick of a gaunt finger, the object came alive with the faintest hiss of static.

"Status report," a sophisticated male voice drawled from the machine.

"I have been here for almost half an Earth year, and I have yet to see anything out of the ordinary," the voice of an old woman lisped from beneath the hood.

"Then things must really be going wrong," the voice replied.

"I meant out of the ordinary for this backwater insane asylum of a planet," she corrected. "I also fear that I cannot stay here much longer. The womanizing one caught a brief glimpse of me, and I fear that those other weak-minded fools may get suspicious."

"You will stay there until your orders are carried out," said the man firmly.

"Yes, about that," the woman began. "I am seriously beginning to doubt the accuracy of your intelligence."

"You even said yourself that you sensed a disturbance in that area."

"Sir, this place is disturbed, and on no small scale."

"I see that age may have whittled away your eyes, but not your wit," he stated dryly.

"Humor aside, yes, I do feel a disturbance in the Force, but in the flow of time? I think your contact may have exaggerated a bit."

"I highly doubt that Clockwork would have lied to me, madam."

"I don't quite see why you even trust that hooded specter."

"I trust you, don't I?" the man teased.

"If I wanted to be mocked, I would just call the shapeshifter."

"He's a bit preoccupied at the moment. The Head Cultivator caught him peeking into her shower for the third time this week. And you know how she gets when she's mad…"

"Why you don't fire that sick-minded buffoon is beyond even me," she sighed. "As I was saying, I have yet to see the wisdom in putting your faith in that phantom. He is as just as enigmatic and crafty as you or I, and he has yet to make the motives for his aid known."

"As you have done to others countless times. If I can trust you, I'm pretty sure I can trust him," the unseen person reassured.

"But he isn't even a member of the Disciples! For all we know, he could be secretly working for-!"

"Enough," the man on the other end interrupted calmly. "Have a little faith in me, won't you? There are a few things that even Clockwork does not know. And if he knows everything, what does that make me?"

"A more powerful being with a bigger ego," the old woman stated flatly.

"Touché," the man chuckled.

Suddenly, numerous claxons and alarms sounded on the other end of the connection. "Um, sorry, but I'm going to have to cut this session short. One of the Chimeras broke out of the Ecology Sector. Again."

With a click, the connection was severed. "Yes, Korozhi, whatever you say," the old woman whispered. With another crackle of electricity across her body, she disappeared once more, joining the shadows in the one place she truly belonged.


There's the first chapter down. Now, I'd really appreciate your comments. I'd appreciate it even more if you're honest with me. What, do you think this penname is something random I pulled out of a hat?

The first and foremost thing I want you to look out for is me portraying the characters in an OOC (Out Of Character) fashion. I can't stress enough how important this is. Also, if you think I need to up the rating, tell me; I REALLY hope it doesn't come to that, though. Since there won't be any sex scenes of any kind, it probably WON'T come to that.

One last thing: if any of you can guess who the old woman was, you can probably guess where the Blood Gulchers will be crossing over to. Probably. It's not quite as obvious as other crossovers, however, so it most likely isn't the first thing that pops into your head. And yes, I will keep you guessing for the first few chapters.