EXT. BLUE BASE - DAY
TUCKER is standing in front of CABOOSE, who is meticulously cleaning black soot off Tucker's armor. They are in front of the blue base.
TUCKER: (On radio, voice strained with impatience) Come in, Blue Command. This is Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. Do you read me? We have a situation.
CABOOSE: (Humming softly as he works) Okay, that is the last of it, your armor is clean now. No more black stuff! You look very shiny, Tucker.
TUCKER: (Wiggles his arm) Did you get all the black stuff off? I swear I can still feel it. It's like it's in my soul.
BLUE COMMAND: (On radio, voice crackling) This is Blue Command, come in Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. We read you, loud and clear. What's your status?
TUCKER: (Relieved) Hello! Command! We need help. Like, immediately. Things are... rapidly deteriorating down here.
BLUE COMMAND: Roger that, Blood Gulch, what is your request? Be specific. Are you under attack?
TUCKER: (Sighs) I don't know what the technical military term is for it, but uh, we're pretty fucked up down here. We need men! And maybe some new equipment. And less idiocy.
BLUE COMMAND: (A long pause, then a hint of weariness in their voice) ...Dude, how long have you guys been down there? You sound a little... stir-crazy.
TUCKER: (Frustrated) No, no no, naw, it- not like that. We need more men to help us! Actual soldiers! We're outnumbered and outgunned by... well, by the Reds, mostly. And a tank.
BLUE COMMAND: Roger that. Did you get the tank we sent? The M808V Scorpion? It was a very expensive piece of hardware.
TUCKER: (Groans) Yeah, that got blown up too. Like, five minutes ago. By our own guy. It was a whole thing.
BLUE COMMAND: (A beat of silence, then a flat tone) Wow. Sucks to be you.
TUCKER: (Sarcastic) Yeah, we know. You're telling me.
BLUE COMMAND: Okay, here's what I can do. The nearest blue forces can be there in sixteen days, or I can hire a nearby freelancer and get him there within a few hours. Your call.
CABOOSE: (Pops up from behind Tucker, excited) I like the 'in an hour' one! That sounds much faster!
TUCKER: (Nods vigorously) Yeah, me too. Roger that, Command, we prefer the quicker solution. Send the freelancer. The sooner the better.
BLUE COMMAND: 10-4 Blood Gulch. We will contact freelancer Tex, and have him there post-haste. Command out.
TUCKER: (To the now-dead radio) Whoever he is, make sure he can fix a tank! And doesn't call my girlfriend a cow!
CABOOSE: (Confused) What's a freelancer? Is it like, a free lancer? Do they give you free lances?
TUCKER: (Sighs, explaining patiently) Freelancers are independent, Caboose. They're not red or blue. They're just guns for hire, who'll fight for whoever has the most money. Like a... a mercenary.
CABOOSE: (Nods slowly) Like a mercenary. Right. Or like your mom, when the rent's due.
TUCKER: (A beat of surprised silence, then a slow grin) ...oh, that's funny. I'm gonna use that.
CABOOSE: (Beaming, proud of himself) Yeah, you didn't think that was too obvious? I thought it was pretty clever.
TUCKER: No no, no no, that was, that was good. That was surprisingly good, Caboose.
Some soldier in white armor starts fading in in the background, a ghostly, shimmering effect. It's CHURCH.
GHOSTLY WHITE ARMOR: (Spooky, echoing voice) Tucker... Tuuuckerrr...
YOU ARE READING
Red vs Blue (Male OC Insert)
FanfictionYou were one of the first freelancers and one of the best you could never fill a mission no matter what happens you always succeed no matter who you fight you always come out on top. You've lost a lot of people you care about in your life along with...
