A/N: I do not own Red vs. Blue. This is also the first fanfic I have ever written, well there was a Star Trek one, but I gave up on it. There is no way to make a klingon happy-go-lucky without leading to nightmares. Also don't harp on my spelling or writing style. I hate when people do.

They Deserve Their Freedom, Right?

The trumpeter once again played that immortal song known as Reveille. The armies got up and returned to rally. Then they ran out of their bases and started peppering the valley with any weapon they had.

It was utter chaos. The only person there was a renegade in black armor. He had managed to escape the madness a year earlier. He had been a red. He had suddenly come to a revelation. Why the fuck were they obsessed with a flag.

His name was Tuscon. He had played the game for so long he had become so obsessed he rivaled the Zealot in dedication to the flag. But he had realized that he was getting nowhere dieing and coming back to life over a red flag.

The only reason he had for returning to Battle Creek was guilt. Guilt that he let his comrades stay stuck in the eternal battle. Also he had nothing else to do. Mostly it was the guilt.

He walked down the cliff face and headed toward the center of the valley. Once again the trumpeter sounded. If he ever found him Tuscon was going to strangle him with his own bugle. He sidestepped to avoid being knocked over by a blue carrying a SPNKER. He had carried one of those himself. Mainly because of the joke he had found in it.

"They are called spankers, they have two rockets, and people have two ass cheeks," he mused to himself as he walked to a certain rock set into the center of the area.

As the sounds of the charge started he yelled out in a loud voice, "SOLDIERS OF BATTLE CREEK. WHY DO YOU FIGHT THIS ETERNAL FIGHT."

The residents of the valley couldn't fire a shot due to their surprise at the dark figure that had appeared out of thin air. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Tuscon was the smartest person there.

"We do it for the honor of the Flag," a blue yelled out in a voice that was just a little to high to have belonged to an adult.

"The flag does not know what honor is. It is incapable of knowing anything; it is nothing but a piece of Kevlar cloth. I have realized this. I was once among your numbers, I was known as the Rocket-man, I was the red's greatest soldier. I too rose at the sound of Reveille. I have escaped. Leave the valley and you shall be…"

He never finished. Before he could the Zealot shot him through the head. In the Zealot's mind leaving the valley was a sin punishable only by a permanent death.

The last thing Tuscon thought before death overtook him was that he had at least tried.