RvB/Halo. The Reds and Blues leave their destroyed outpost to join Master Chief and the rest of Earth's forces to help finish the fight. During the campaign, they find out the true purpose of Blood Gulch and the conspiracy behind it all and more.

Disclaimer: Halo and Red vs. Blue are owned by Bungie/Microsoft and Roosterteeth respectively.

A/N: This fic is based loosely on the Halo 3 game and the machinima Red vs. Blue. Not every written event follows strictly to Halo 3 or Red vs. Blue's original plots. If a character starts to stray too far from canon, however please tell me and I'll see if a change is needed. Constructive criticism is welcomed.

…And hope to heaven all of the RvB guys will survive this war.

Red vs. Blue: The Spartan Rejects
Episode 1: Realization

It was night and two figures clad in orange and maroon armor stood watch on top of the Red Base's roof.

"Hey."

"M'yeah?"

"You ever wonder why we're here?"

FWUMP.

"Grif…?"

"…Zzz."

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

"What are they doing?"

"Say that one more time, Tucker, and I swear…you'll never have kids again."

Church and Tucker stood out on one of the scattered ridges of Blood Gulch overlooking the Red Base. Why? WHY am I still here? Were one of the many questions running through the Blue leader's mind as he peered through his sniper scope at the ever-present enemy base. Dammit. If only I had been on that ship when it blew up. Anything's better than being stuck in this fucking canyon.

And, as if on cue, a tremor erupted beneath their feet. "What the f—?" Church dropped his gaze from the scope and glanced about in confusion. "Hey, what's that?" Tucker gazed up at the night sky.

Church never thought he'd see a more glorious sight. A Pelican came swooping in and their radios instantly buzzed in their ears, "This is Echo 316. Prepare fer immediate dustoff. Get yer arses onboard, now!"

The Red and Blue civil war has been and always would be a part engrained their memory. However, the prejudice and bitter rivalry between the two would soon to come to an end.

"Pilot, what the Sam hell's goin' on?" Sarge demanded, his hand gripping the pilot's seat to support himself as the Pelican rose in the air. The Sarge's ignorance seemed to surprise the Flight Officer, "Ya don't know? That whole ring's gonna be slag in a few minutes."

The whole rescued crew cried out in shock, "WHAT?"

Grif was the first to recover, "You mean that hellhole's gonna go up? Excellent."

Caboose, on the other hand, right away came to tears and sniffed, "W-What? But we didn't even get to say goodbye!" He promptly spun around in his seat to look out of the tiny window behind him, waving at the quickly shrinking plot of land, "Goodbye, Blood Gulch! You were the closest thing to home for me! I'll miss you! Goodbye!"

Church was about to say something along the lines of "Shut up and sit down" but, for some odd reason, couldn't bring the words to his mouth.

He hated Blood Gulch. Day by day, it's just spying on the Reds, fighting with the Reds, or fighting amongst his own fellow Blues. In fact, it had gotten so bad that he was certain he would linger in this purgatory for all eternity and no one back at home would care. Yet, after years of eking out a less-than-decent living and going through endless misadventures in that pit, one couldn't help but grow attached to it…

Pfft. Yeah, right, he snorted inwardly and turned his eyes to floor. A random afterthought then entered his mind and he furrowed his eyebrows. Wait a minute…Why would our outpost suddenly blow up for no reason? Something's not right…

"Damn! Lookit that!" all of the other Reds and Blues clustered up at the windows as a violent quake shook the craft. Shaking him out of his reverie, Church curiously gazed out a porthole. In the distance, a crumbling Halo severed in two; a bright, almost cleansing light emanated from an inaudible explosion.

"Aww. No 'boom'? That sucks. Boooo," Grif complained.

Simmons remarked in an obvious tone, "Of course there's no 'boom', dumbass. You're not supposed to hear anything in space."

Grif said sheepishly, "Oh, uh…yeah."

Sarge then directed his attention on both teams, "Well. Now that that's over…" Without warning, he aimed his shotgun at Church, "Surrender, Blues, or feel the wrath of Kenny!" Instantly, each teams' soldier held their adversary at gun point. Donut protectively hugged the Red Team flag to his chest and Caboose followed suit with his own. The pilot's voice carried from the cockpit, "Hey! What tha hell's goin' on back dere?"

"…'Kenny'? You named your shotgun Kenny?" Tucker said incredulously.

Sarge replied, a hint of attitude in his voice, "You wanna make somethin' out of it?" He threateningly switched his aim to Tucker while Simmons took Sarge's place on Church. Tucker gulped meekly, "No."

A lieutenant then emerged from the copilot's seat and approached them, "What's the matter, gentlemen?"

Doc whispered to the noncom, "Shh. It's a standoff."

The lieutenant looked at him questioningly, "Standoff?"

The purple medic nodded fervently, "Yes, sir. Both teams have been at it for years. Now, since their bases are destroyed, new grounds must be claimed."

Simultaneously, Sarge and Church yelled, "Dibs!"

"I said it first!"

"Nuh-uh. It was a tie."

"Erm…Fine. Double dibs!"

"There is no double dibs, you old fart."

"There is now!"

"Hey!" the lieutenant intervened, stepping between the two leaders. "Stand down. Stand down!" he forcefully repeated the order when neither side complied. When the Reds and Blues lowered their weapons, the lieutenant spoke, "Now I don't know what your orders were, but apparently there has been a mistake. We're all on the same side. Our only enemy is the Covenant."

Then Sister started giggling, "What a retard. 'Same side'? That's like the most dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Grif added, "Yeah! I mean, the Red and Blue Teams are like mortal enemies, man."

The lieutenant cocked an eyebrow, "Red and Blue? What are you talking about, Private? Neither such teams exist. Least, not in the records."

At this startling news, Church was mixed between a sense of confusion and alarm. "What do you mean our teams don't exist? Of course, they exist! Blue Command dropped us in Blood Gulch to conquer their base!" he motioned towards the Reds, nearing the point of yelling, "Are you telling me those orders were fake?"

The lieutenant eyed him strangely, feeling quite convinced that these men need help, "Look. There are no Red or Blue Teams, much less any Command you name. We only follow one Command and that's the UNSC."

For a brief moment, all was quiet. Until the silence was broken after Sarge fainted and collapsed on the floor. As Donut rushed to assist his fallen superior, Tucker breathed in a hushed whisper, "I can't believe it. I was right. The Reds and Blues are the same!"

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

: To be continued…