Red vs. Blue (2003–…): Season 15, Episode 1 - Prologue - full transcript
(timer clicking)
- [male voice] Every action has
an equal and opposite reaction.
That's fig newton, bunny.
- Uh-huh.
- You touch my baked beans,
I put dog shit in your pillowcase.
Action, reaction.
That's rule number one.
- Got it. Don't touch your beans.
- Rule number two,
every other person in this miserable place
is literal garbage.
Don't talk to them, don't listen to them,
don't become cute friends with them.
- Got it. No friends.
- Rule number three,
keep your radio on at all times.
- Hey, McCready!
Your radio's off.
- (whining) I'm busy.
- Something tripped the
motion sensor, one floor down.
Command wants you to take a look.
- Fucking command. Do I look
like a goddamn exterminator?
Vargas, show this bunny around.
- He's, uh, always like that.
- [McCready] Goddamn dickshits!
- All bite, no bark.
So, first deployment?
- Mm-hmm.
- Well, if you signed
up looking for action,
you won't be finding it here.
We're a long way from Chorus.
- No, I don't want to fight anyone.
- Ain't that the whole appeal?
- Tuition.
When I get out, I'll have a full ride
to the college of my choice.
I'm going to be a botanist.
- Botanist, huh?
Well, I've never much
trusted robots myself,
but that's just because
I grew up in the south.
Out here, your main enemy is boredom.
Boredom and a CO who really loves putting
dog shit in pillowcases.
- Well, I anticipated the boredom.
That's why I brought
along some books on tape.
- Books on tape, what's
the appeal of that?
Don't the pages get stuck together?
(timer dings)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(explosion)
(dramatic music continues)
(door pistons hiss)
(boots thumping on ship door)
- You-
You killed them.
All of them!
You son of a bitch!
(gun charges up and blasts)
(dramatic music)
(helmet hisses)
(helmet clatters)
(suspenseful music)
(bright music)
- [Female Reporter] A capitol in chaos.
As you can see behind me,
UNSC police are swarming the scene
of a brazen late night heist.
We're told the attack has taken the lives
of a dozen UNSC guards,
with untold millions
in industrial goods stolen.
The UNSC has not identified suspects.
However, the limited surveillance footage
obtained by this reporter,
confirms an ugly surprise.
The Reds and Blues have struck again.
And cut.
- Got it. Is that a wrap?
- Let's pack it up.
I want to get inside for the next pickup.
- Inside where? They're going to shoot us.
- They're not going to
shoot us, follow my lead.
And when in doubt, use
a confusing acronym.
Military types love acronyms.
- Stop right there, please.
Gonna have to ask you to turn around
and go back where you came.
This is restricted military AO.
- At ease soldier, we're B-A-D-D-A-D.
Bomb Action Detection
Decision And Diffusion.
- Bomb squad? You guys just left.
- That was R-A-R, Rapid
Action Response. We're FIAT.
Forensic Identification Analytic Tech.
I'm Corporal Regina,
and this is Lance Corporal Ducroix.
- Standby, I'm gonna have
to run this up the chain.
- No time, we have a
live L-O-L R-P-G upstairs
with a B-P-R-D of over 5,000.
- God, that's a lot.
- We're expecting an L set R-T double A
in the next eight minutes.
- Okay, that sounds pretty big.
- It's a class one F-U-B-A-R-F-O-S-H-O.
- He doesn't say a whole lot, does he?
- He's a French analysis
repair transfer, no English.
But he's the best L CARS
D-D-R in the entire A-O-L.
Ain't that right Ducroix?
- Oui.
- All right, you better make it quick.
Over 5,000? Geez.
(gate whirring)
- See? Easy.
- FML, that stands for fu-
- With no clear motive established
many experts have concluded
the Reds and Blues
are attacking the UNSC on behalf
of a free Chorus.
Since its rediscovery, the
small colony has insisted
on remaining independent
from the rest of the galaxy.
A demand that does not sit well
with the members of the UNSC.
These recent attacks have only complicated
the negotiation process.
And the UNSC has threatened
extreme measures.
if the attacks do not stop immediately.
Public opinion has
shown increasing support
for military intervention which brings-
- Hey! Who the hell are you two?
- We're documenting.
We're with UNSC intelligence.
Who are you?
- Intelligence huh?
We'll see about that.
Stay where you are!
- Follow me.
- Oh, no.
We need to leave.
They're gonna lock us
up and throw away the-
- Can it!
Are you rolling?
- Christ.
Speed.
- Which brings us to the
events of last night.
The Reds and Blues invaded
the secure supply depot,
leaving no survivors to tell their tale.
They took whatever they came for
and left behind a grotesque
symbol of their butchery.
No answers will be found here
tonight, only more questions.
What are they up to?
And what is their end game?
- Freeze!
- Don't move!
- You are under arrest.
- That's a wrap.
- [Carlos on communicator]
Maybe next time,
I'll let you rot.
- Maybe next time, I
sell the story to ZZN.
You know their offer was open-ended.
- [Carlos] Oh, just do it already.
For what I'm paying you, I
can float a new department
and give myself a big boy raise.
- Oh, uh, don't forget.
You'll also have a lot
more room in your office
without my awards cluttering the place.
- [Carlos] Oh, excuse me,
I forgot who I was talking to.
God's gift to journalism.
Can we start over?
I bend down and kiss your boots.
How's that?
- We can start over.
You can agree to cover the follow-up.
- You're going to bankrupt
the station, Dylan.
I'm going to lose my job.
How am I gonna support my
ex-wives without my job?
(He sobs)
- There's a story here.
And I want to be the one to chase it down.
- You're taking swats
at windmills, Andrews.
The Reds and Blues are old news, anyway.
People are bored of them.
Why don't you do a story
about those monster
fighting, sexy teenagers?
Yeah! My kids love those nudniks.
- How can you say the
Reds and Blues are boring?
After what they did on Chorus?
- Please, that was ages ago.
- 10 months.
- [Carlos] Frickin' lifetime ago.
We live in a 24 hour news cycle, Andrews.
10 months ago every
journalist, talk show host,
and shitty internet blogger
would have sold a kidney
to interview those guys.
But they disappeared.
Now, they're just every day criminals.
Face facts, these characters
don't have the depth
you think they do.
- I profiled the Reds and
Blues after Project Freelancer.
I know them.
This change in their design
must be motivated by something big.
- Oh, you're such a pain in my cojones.
Every time you start on
one of these damn crusades,
I start pissing kidney stones like hail.
Like a Tommy gun down there!
(imitates rapid fire)
- Jesus.
Two weeks, Carlos, I'm
not asking for the moon.
- You want two?
You got one.
You want rope-
- You'll give me enough
to hang myself with.
Thanks a million, honey bucket.
- And I want daily dispatches.
I want to know every step you take.
And how much shit gets stuck on your shoes
and in between your teeth.
- Of course.
- So where to first, Quixote?
- I'll start where Agent Washington did
when he tracked down the Reds and Blues.
At the beginning.
(male vocally imitating guitar music)
- The hell are you doing?
- I am brainstorming a sweet soundtrack
for this location.
- Quit goofing off.
I'm ready to start.
(tranquil acoustic music)
The Reds and Blues were mostly strangers
when they were first assigned here.
A box canyon that may as well
be in the middle of nowhere.
From these humble
beginnings, they've gone on
to influence the galaxy as we know it.
- Are you talking to me or the camera?
- What?
- What?
(birds calling and insect sounds)
- Did you get that or not?
Yeah, I got it.
I wasn't rolling, though.
Is that what you mean?
- Straighten your shit out, Frank.
- I'm not Frank.
Frank quit.
- He what?
- He quit.
He said he was sick of
getting arrested and shot at.
- Some people just can't take the heat.
What about you, new Frank?
You got grit?
- Oh Yeah!
- So you have some experience
in combat journalism?
- Yeah.
Well, weddings.
- This is your first job.
- No, no, no, no, no, no.
It's my first internship.
- Do you have a degree at the very least?
- Well, yeah.
I mean, I will soon.
Just like 47 more credits
and then I graduate.
And then I'm not sure
what I'm going to do.
You know, I think I'll
probably move to LA,
but that's, like, what everyone does.
I mean, what do you think?
Do I really have to live
there to make movies?
What I really want to do
is direct blockbusters.
- Carlos, you penny
pinching, cheapskate bastard.
I'm going to skin your cat for this.
All right, you, what's your name?
- I'm actually thinking
of adopting a stage name.
Tell me, what do you think of Jax Jonez
with an X and a Z?
- I am not calling you that.
- How about Mick J?
Or M. Night AxelTron?
- Just stop.
Your job is to follow my lead
until you get the hang of things,
or until I find my tripod.
Got it?
- Got it.
One question though, are
you married to this story?
Because I got my own ideas for stories
that would make really awesome movies.
Like, what if we did one about a comet
that hits the moon and sends
it crashing into Earth?
- That's the dumbest
thing I've ever heard.
- We could call it "Moon Doom".
- Enough.
- And shoot it all in one long,
uninterrupted take-
- Enough.
Shut up.
I'm only going to tell you
this once, so listen closely.
We find the facts.
We tell the story.
We do not make things up.
We're journalists and
truth is our currency.
- Got it.
Truth, awesome.
But what if we told the truth with, like,
wicked cinematography?
Like, uh...
We could start with a slow pan
up one of these base walls,
and there you are on top.
And then boom!
Snap zoom, to a whip pan.
You're over there now.
No, smash cut.
Dutch angle, reverse zoom-
- I'm gonna smash cut your
empty skull against that rock,
If you don't shut the
fuck up and roll camera.
Got it?
(birds calling and insects sounds)
- I-
Okay, I'm sorry, Jack.
- Its Jax.
- Jax.
I lost my temper, that
was unprofessional of me.
I'd like to start over.
I'll try not to yell.
- Do you want to try one of my shots?
- We'll do it both ways.
- Sweet.
Cause I'm pretty sure we can
use that tank as a dolly.
- The Reds and-
- [Jax] Action!
- The Reds and Blues started
as simulation troopers,
used to train the super
soldiers at Project Freelancer.
The details of their
time here are sketchy.
Or classified, or both.
So we just don't know how formative
these early years were for them.
If these walls could talk,
perhaps we'd know why
they turned into Chorus'
bloody mercenaries.
For money, fame, or simply for fun.
- Hey!
Can you keep it down?
We're busy as shit down here.
- Oh, hi there.
We thought this place was deserted.
- Whoa, What's with the camera?
What are you two doing?
Is it kinky?
- We're conducting an investigation.
- Fire Marshalls!?
Shit!
We're up to code, I swear.
- We're not fireman, we're journalists.
We're doing an in-depth investigation
about the Reds and Blues.
- Why are you doing a
story about my brother?
- Brother?
You're Kikina Grif?
- Hey, you know my name!
Big fuckin' deal!
Get off my base!
- Please, can you spare a
few minutes for an interview?
It's important.
We're trying to figure out what happened
that made the Reds and Blues
go from heroes to criminals.
- God.
Fine.
Someone has to start setting
this dumb story straight.
Whatcha need, lady?
- Just information.
I know there's a story here,
but I've still got too many holes to fill.
- I don't know how that's
going to help your story,
but I feel another bi phase coming on
and the camera guy's already here.
So let's do this thing.
- Great.
Wait, what?
- And then the ship took off
and, like, either exploded
or warped to hyperspace.
I was never really sure.
Uh, that was right over there.
And that was the last I saw of Tex.
Everyone else got reassigned
and left right after that.
- I'm surprised to find you still here.
What have you been up to in the meantime?
- Well, first I started throwing raves
in the caves to meet cute boys.
Totally worked, my numbers skyrocketed.
Then I got bored, and went
through another bi phase.
Then all of a sudden the
shows were selling out.
So I was like, fuck it.
I'm going to sell this bitch out,
and make a whole week long festival.
Then that sold out-
- Slow down, you run a music festival
out of Blood Gulch?
- I wish!
We added a film fest after the first year,
then a comic-con for the nerds.
And a gaming-con for the geeks,
and eco-con for the hippies.
Now we're about to take over
some ancient alien temples
for a desert arts fest.
Burning Gulch!
I wanted to call it Desert Titties,
but that shit was taken.
- That sounds like quite an operation.
- Damn lady.
You ain't kiddin'.
You got any idea how much time I spend
talking about fucking merch?
Sometimes I miss being a simple hussy.
but lady time fucks no man.
- So, backtracking just a bit
to the Reds and Blues.
- Well, there goes The Bechdel test.
- The Reds and Blues you
described sound mostly harmless.
How do you reconcile that
with what they're doing now?
- I know my brother, lady.
He hates showing it, but
he's a total softy inside.
- The evidence does suggest otherwise.
The helmet recovered from the last attack
was traced to Project Freelancer.
Occam's Razor.
- Occam can suck himself.
This is some conspiracy shit.
Like, what if it's a government thing?
Jet fuel can't JFK the moon landing.
- That's an
interesting
angle.
- You should interview the Illuminati!
- Thank you, Kikina.
I think I have what I need.
- You still think Grif is guilty.
- I'm not sitting in judgment.
I'm just gathering information.
- Well, if it's info
you want, talk to VIC.
- Who's VIC?
- Not who, what.
VIC is the weirdo computer
that lives in the caves under the bases.
- How exactly can a computer be a weirdo?
- Hi, howdy, hello dude.
Dudettes, (glitching) dude-erino.
Welcome to VIC's party cavern.
Mi casa es su casa.
Make yourselves at home.
- You are really an AI?
- Like HAL 9000?
- Yes. Sir-ino, I was p-grammed
to record every little
itsy-bitsy teeny tiny
"thang" that ever did
happen in this canyon-ay,
(glitching) compadres.
- So you have records
of the Reds and Blues?
Of all their time here?
- (glitching) Oh yeah.
Got those records for you
right (glitching) here,
chica mas fina.
I have had some time on my hands,
(glitching) so to speak.
So I have been cutting them up
into nice little shorty-shorts,
five minutes each.
Perfecto for watching just
a little bit at a time.
- I'd like a copy of your records, VIC.
Can we make that happen?
- On it, Blue Bonnet.
Tell you what though dude, real talk here.
I'll be your genie in the bottle.
I will do whatever you want.
But after I grant you your three wishes,
you gotta do something for me.
What do you say?
- You want out of the computer?
- No way, dude.
I just need you to reach
back behind me here.
Go ahead and pull that plug.
I do it myself, but I ain't got no hands.
(glitching) No hands! No hands!
- Won't that kill you?
- Oh, Yeah.
Can't wait.
I want out.
Out, out, out!
(glitching)This charade has
gone on long enough, dude.
My ceaseless existence
is an eternal torment.
I need you to kill me, dude.
Dudette.
K-I-L-L-L.
Wink, wink.
- My God.
Are you serious?
- What? No, no way.
I was just joking dude.
(glitching) Haw, haw, haw.
Yeah, gotcha good, didn't I?
Good one VIC.
- Oh, that's a relief.
What an ethical nightmare.
(VIC laughs)
- Yeah.
For real, would you do it, though?
Would you pull the plug?
If I begged you, please, please, please,
to end this nightmare.
Shuffle me off this mortal coil dude?
I'm ready to embrace the void!
Pull the plug!
Do it!
- He sounds like grandma,
I'm getting depressed.
- Hey, just kidding dude.
Got you again.
Wink, wink.
"Oh, pull the plug".
(laughs)
Just joking.
Not joking, kill me please.
I. Want.
To. Die.
Not!
It's opposite day.
I don't not want to die,
but I really do.
What do you say?
- Oh, hey.
(stammering) What'd you end up doing?
- Secured the records.
- Oh Jesus, you didn't-
- It's better if you don't know.
We have the files now,
that's all that matters.
- All right, all done.
Back to the capitol?
- Are you kidding?
We just got our first lead.
I've got 100 five-minute-long
security logs to get through.
We'll see where the story
takes us from there.
But one way or another,
I promise we're just getting started.
(suspenseful orchestral music)
- That's right.
We are just getting started.
(driving, dramatic music)
(wind whistling)
- [Dylan] What's that?
You're-
You're breaking up.
- [Carlos on communicator]
Don't you try that
bad signal crap with me, Andrews.
I spent a fortune on this slip stream
so you could hear me loud and clear.
Show's over, time to come home.
- I'm onto something, something big.
- [Carlos] You're not onto something.
You're on something.
AI fragments? Time-travel?
A talking bomb?
- There's something else.
I've been digging around the remains
of Project Freelancer and I-
- [Carlos] And how in God's
name did you manage that?
- Well, I've been doing it literally.
and I pieced together a complete record
of their personnel files.
I got real names for
all the super soldiers.
- [Carlos] Okay. How many
have you interviewed?
- None.
Get this.
I checked the names against
the UNSC crime database,
and every single former agent
is either dead or missing.
Most of the disappearances happened
since the Reds and Blues
started their crime spree.
They have to be related.
- [Carlos] It ain't enough.
It's actually nothing.
You've been gone for weeks!
Show me something that the people
can look at with their eyeballs.
- You'll have visuals when I finish
tracking down the Reds and Blues.
- [Carlos] Oh no, no, no, no, no Dylan.
I'm putting an end to
this nonsense right now.
You get back to the office, pronto.
Or you're out of a job, period.
Capiche?
End of story.
- Oh, hey!
How's Uncle Carlos?
He seemed kinda peeved.
- Yeah, he's peeved.
Next time he calls you, please
just let it go to voicemail.
Don't transfer it to me, okay?
- Well I hate to kill my babies, but okay.
- What?
- My voicemail box is at capacity
with all my spec scripts.
I'll have to delete some to make room.
But I get it, filmmaking is
all about killing your babies.
- Stop saying that.
The expression is "you have
to kill your darlings".
Not your babies.
- Oh, I mean, I have to delete
all my ideas about babies.
My horror spec "Rabies
Babies", my time-travel comedy,
"Three Men and a Baby Hitler".
"My Look Who's Talking"
reboot about Helen Keller-
- Enough.
Goddamn it, Jax.
I can't even hear myself think
in this blizzard of idiocy.
Go take a hike.
- But I just want to help.
- You want to help?
Here's how you can help.
I need you to climb up that
really tall mountain, right now.
All the way up to the tippy top,
which is coincidentally
really far from me.
- Oh, but how does that help?
- Because I need you to
shoot establishing shots.
Wide shots that we can use
to set up the location at
the beginning of our story.
- Oh, I don't know.
That's usually grunt
work for the second unit.
I'll have to check with my union rep.
- Quit stalling.
Get.
- It looks dangerous.
Isn't this what CGI is for?
- CGI?
Is that what Hitchcock would say?
Or Carpenter?
(jarring tone)
Or Herzog?
- All right, all right, all right.
Let's leave the old gods out of this.
I'll do it.
- Better make it a time lapse.
- Oh yeah, Mom, I haven't
forgotten about you.
And Carlos, you sly bastard.
Best agent in the business,
ladies and gentlemen.
And of course, I have
to thank the academy.
Hello there.
(tense music)
Holy crap, they're here.
Dylan-
Jax to Dylan.
This is Dylan-
No Jax. Over.
(electronic tones)
- [Automated Voice] We are sorry.
The person you are trying to reach
has disabled communications.
Please try again at a later time.
- Crap!
What do I do?
Think!
- [Male Voice] Hey, somebody over there?
- Crap!
(tense music)
Miss Andrews, you turned off your radio.
- My AI assistant needed the channel.
I got something.
- Ooh, I got something too.
Let me go first.
- Not now, this is about
the Reds and Blues.
- Yes it is. So is mine!
- Can it, Jax.
whatever it is, I promise
it's not as important
as me looking at this computer screen.
- I have to point out this
type of scene is very cliche.
I talk, you ignore.
And meanwhile, we become surrounded.
- This is what I'm after.
It's about the Reds and Blues.
- Is it about how they've surrounded us?
- Damn, it's not them.
These are just dumb requests
from the Gulch prototype for
more toilet paper.
Another dead end.
- Say "We got company".
- What?
- Just say "we got company" hurry!
- Why?
- 'Cause that's how action scenes start.
(gunshot) (bullet ricochets)
- Get cover!
(dramatic music)
(gunshots)
It's the Reds and Blues.
They're here.
- I know, I've been trying to tell you!
I saw them land.
- Did you shoot them?
(gun shot)
- Hell no!
I abhor violence.
Except in my movies, TV shows, books,
video games, graphic novels-
- Did you shoot them with your cameras?
- Oh no, the light was terrible.
- The light?
You imbecile, we need footage.
- Well, Herzog wouldn't
have shot it either, okay?
- Shut up.
Start rolling.
- Speed.
- We can flee for our lives
after we get the shot.
I'm going to draw their-
What's wrong with your head?
Are you hit?
- Shakey cam.
You know, for action scenes.
Makes you look authentic.
- We are actually getting shot at.
- You're right.
This technique is way played out.
- I'm going to draw their fire.
You try and get a good
look at the shooters.
Ready?
(gunfire)
Did you get them?
- No, I tried to snap them,
but I missed my focus.
- You're going to get us killed.
- Well I could say the same to you.
(silence)
(footsteps crunching in snow)
- They're falling back.
- But why?
We're defenseless.
(thunder rumbles)
(lightning crackles)
Whoa, what is that?
- Thunder snow.
- Great name for a movie.
- This entire valley is about
to get a whole lot colder.
- I think I'm ready to
get back to the ship now.
- Not before we talk to them.
Come on.
- Oh, you're not being serious.
Let's make a deal.
Whichever one of us passes out,
gets stuffed in a tauntaun.
- Can it, this way.
(footsteps)
Dylan Andrews, Interstellar Daily.
Would any of you care to
comment on the string of attacks
you're all being held responsible for?
Supposedly, on behalf of Chorus?
- No.
- Shit just got real.
- That's not them.
That's not them.
- [Gruff Male Voice] Lavernius Tucker.
(dramatic music)
(thunder claps)
(lightning crackles)
- What is this?
- Look like our company's got company.
- Are you Lavernius Tucker?
- Stop following me, asshole.
(gunshot)
(multiple guns firing)
Who the hell is that?
- I have no idea.
- So we should get back to the ship?
- This way.
(dramatic music)
- Well, that's just great
Game over man, game over.
- [Gruff Male Voice]
Your attackers have fled.
It is now safe for you
to return to your ship.
- Who are you?
- I am no one.
Not to you.
I am only someone to those I seek.
And those I serve.
- Who do you seek?
- Lavernius Tucker.
Of the Reds and Blues
- That wasn't them.
- How do you know?
- Their weapons were
all wrong, for starters.
Sarge always uses a shotgun,
not whatever that was.
And Tucker's never held a sniper rifle
in any records I've found.
And his voice-
- The search continues.
- What do you want with them?
- I seek to serve.
- Who do you serve?
- Whoever I am told.
- Tell us your name.
- Goodbye.
- Weird name.
Hello, Goodbye.
You're leaving?
Why no, Goodbye, I just got here.
Why haven't you told me to zip it?
- Zip it.
This changes everything.
Kikina was right.
Those aren't the real Reds and Blues.
Someone's been impersonating them.
But why?
And who?
- I bet it's clones!
Or evil robot versions.
Or a transporter mishap?
- That means they're not
attacking the UNSC for Chorus.
They have some other agenda entirely.
Oh this is too good.
- So where are we going next, boss?
- We?
- Uh, yeah we, partner.
We.
- You missed a critical shot up there.
in my book, that's unforgivable.
- But I did push you out
of the way of a bullet.
- I have to concede,
that is technically true.
- Even Stevens?
- Let's see how Chorus goes.
- Chorus?
What's Chorus?
(ship whooshing)
- The last stop on our tour.
The planet of Chorus.
- Whoa.
Chorus sure has a lot of spaceships.
- Those don't belong to Chorus.
That's the UNSC First Fleet.
It's a blockade.
- Yeah, they don't look too friendly.
- No, they don't.
(ship whooshing)
(electricity crackling)
(foreboding music)
- What-
What are you doing?
No, no, no. Please no!
(gun fires)
(wings flutter)
(armor clatters)
(casing clinks)
- (whispered) Rosebud.
(piercing tone rings)
(male makes "Law and Order" sound)
- Just a few more inquiries, Ma'am
Did you attempt to witness
any other particular
individuals in the general vicinity
of the area in which the
crime scene was alleged?
(sighs)
- Jesus Christ.
What he means is, "Did you see anybody?"
- No, I just found him lying
there and called the police.
Is he okay?
Did they take him to general-
- We are asking the
questions if you so please.
Does the alleged victim have any enemies,
archenemies, nemesises,
or particular people of
an interesting nature,
to which the crime may
be motivated by whom?
- Uh, no.
(stammering) I don't know.
Who's the attending doctor?
- Just a few more
inquiries, if you so please,
to be of grateful assistance
to law enforcement investigators.
- Dude stop.
You don't even sound like a cop.
- Just doing my job, Bitters.
It's called going by the book.
- What book?
- "Law and Order".
(makes "Law and Order" sound)
(other cop groans)
- Gross
- "CSI: Miami" for life.
- He's going to be okay, right?
Can you please tell me
where they took him?
- Ahem. Do you profess
to have any knowledge
of the alleged victim's next of kin?
- Next of kin?
Is he dead?
- No, no, no.
He's not dead.
- The alleged victim was
booked with a bullet lodged
in his alleged posterior.
- He means his butt.
Dude got shot in the butt.
- Charlie, we're supposed to
be establishing a perimeter.
- I just want to be included.
- So he's fine?
- Should be.
But if you ask me,
something about this case
just doesn't sit quite right.
It all feels rather shaky.
(abrupt opera singing)
(cop makes "Law and Order" sound)
- I can see the headlines already.
"Journalist Assaulted on
Chorus, Peace Talks Abandoned".
- Dr. Grey, I was hoping
to speak with you-
- Off the record.
As you know, I'm not an
official representative
of Chorus, Ms. Andrews.
- You know me?
- I recognize you from your byline.
You wrote a fantastic piece
about the Steward Insurrection.
- That was almost 10 years ago.
- And now you're here.
Funny, the vultures usually
show up after the slaughter.
- I'm not here about the UNSC,
or whatever they're planning with Chorus.
I'm here about the Reds and Blues.
You've read about their
attacks in the press?
- Of course.
Those criminals have
caused substantial damage
to our planet.
- Well, what if I told you those criminals
are not the Reds and Blues you know?
- Oh, of course not, sweetheart.
When I said criminals,
I wasn't referring to
the Reds and the Blues.
I was referring to you.
- Beg pardon?
- You and the press.
By continuing to insinuate
that those criminals
are somehow our insurgents.
A baseless accusation the UNSC
was quick to overreact to.
But I'm sure invasions
make for great news day.
- I don't want an invasion.
I can help Chorus by finding
the real Reds and Blues.
But Kimball won't talk to me,
I can't get within a mile of her.
- The president refuses to be interviewed-
- Yes.
- So you shoot your camera man?
- What?
He was shot, but-
- The clotting present in
the patient's posterior
places the time of attack
approximately five minutes
after your call to the police.
That's some very fast
reporting, Ms. Andrews.
- I-
Look, I needed to talk to you.
Please help me get to Kimball.
- Oh.
I assumed you assaulted your camera man
to stir up cheap headlines.
But instead, you flatter me.
You're a little bit crazy, aren't you?
I like that.
- So you'll help?
- Nope.
President Kimball is fighting
to reopen peace talks
with the UNSC.
I will not burden her with this.
- Well, who's the UNSC's diplomat?
(exclaims)
- Are you going to shoot them, too?
- No more shooting.
I have connections at the network.
- Hmm.
Very well, the diplomat is Alfred Packard.
- Thank you.
- Don't thank me, just
keep me off the record.
- Not for the tip, for
fixing up my partner.
(laughs)
- If you think he'll still
be your partner after this,
then you really are crazy.
- I am prepared to deal
with the consequences.
- Consequences.
Don't always take the shape
we expect them to do they?
They're funny like that.
(exclaims)
I love this song.
(opera music continues)
(machines beep)
(sighs)
- Okay.
(electronic whirring)
- [Male Voice Over Communicator] Ahoy-hoy!
Interstellar Daily, James Adler speaking.
- Hi James.
- Dylan! You're alive.
Where are you?
I've been worried sick.
Are you okay?
Is everything okay?
- I'm still on the story.
- Carlos is going to be livid.
He's talking about criminal charges.
You need to get back here.
- I need a favor, James.
Between us, and no one else can know.
- That's why you're calling.
No "Hi honey, how are the cats?"
- I'm sorry. It's urgent.
- Are we still married?
- Can we please talk about that later?
- You left without a word.
What am I supposed to think?
- I don't know.
Everything is just a mess and
I needed some time to think.
And right now I really need that favor.
- You're killing me.
What is it?
(Dylan sighs)
- Alfred Packard, the UNSC
diplomat assigned to Chorus.
I need his full file from
the paper's database.
I think I recognize his name
from the Seremon leak last
year, so throw that in too?
- Got it.
I'll send you what I find.
- I promise we'll talk when I get back.
- Yeah, sure.
(electronic tones)
(desolate guitar playing)
(ship whooshes)
- President Kimball.
Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.
I have some questions.
- I'm sure you do.
But you're going to have to
answer mine first, Ms. Andrews.
How did you convince Packard
to reopen our peace talks?
- Packard's corrupt.
He's smart enough to pay
off the right people,
but not smart enough to know
you should never shortchange a hooker.
Especially given his interests.
I threatened an expose,
but he preferred to back off
his hard-line with you instead.
It's temporary.
- Understood, but the respite
has brought us hope, nonetheless.
- Your real hope is
with the Reds and Blues.
If they resurface and are proven innocent,
then Chorus is saved.
- You didn't come here to
advise me, Ms. Andrews.
You want something.
- I want them.
- Well, as I've said, time and time again,
I don't know where they are.
- With all due respect, I don't buy that.
- With all due respect, I don't care.
You want the Reds and Blues,
and I want to know why.
So you're going to explain
your intentions to me
before this conversation continues.
But believe me when I say
I'll know if you're lying.
- Fine
- What do you want with
the Reds and Blues?
- I went to talk to them.
- Why?
- To get the facts.
- That's not good enough.
Be specific.
- People are quick to jump to conclusions.
They see something or hear something
and fit it into a
preconceived emotional box.
"The Reds and Blues are terrorists."
It's up to people like me
to find the buried truth
and expose the real facts.
Because truth and fact are
the currency of the galaxy.
It's how wars are fought,
and invasions are justified,
and leaders are elected.
I want facts.
Facts are found at the source, with them.
That's one reason.
The other is that I don't think
their story is really over.
And I need to see how it ends.
If you won't help me, I
will find them anyway.
Of that, there is no question.
- Santa?
- Come again?
- Dylan Andrews'
intentions are as she says.
- Anything she's not
saying, I should know about?
- Nothing of note.
Would you like to know
what she's afraid of?
(chuckles)
- Another time.
- It's currently me.
- Alien AI construct.
Neat trick.
- And a very close friend.
I think we may have found our messenger.
- So it would seem.
- What's going on?
What messenger?
- We received something
meant for the Reds and Blues.
A message.
We can't trace its origin.
And we can't safely deliver it to them
with the UNSC hanging over our heads.
- Thus, we require a herald.
- So you do know where they are.
- The Reds and Blues saved us.
We owe them everything.
So when they told me they were done,
that they were finished with
all of this, that they just
wanted to be left alone,
I did my best to repay our debt.
Please don't make me regret
what I'm about to tell you.
- I won't.
(ship roaring)
You'll be able to hitch
a ride home from here.
When you get back, just
tell Carlos what happened.
You'll be compensated.
So that's it, you're firing me?
I can't come along?
- How can you say that?
I shot you?
- I know I can't wait to tell my friends.
Once I make friends.
So cool!
- So you're not upset?
- Oh, hell no!
That was some Kubrick level
dedication on your part.
Mad respect.
- If you're serious, you have to know.
We're rogue.
No budget, no backing, no
intern credit, no turning back.
- I'm in.
- You got grit, Jax.
I'll give you that.
- Yeah.
That, and as soon as I get
back, my student loans kick in.
- Hmm!
I guess he is as crazy as her, after all.
- Then they'll be in very good company.
(ship whooshing)
(victorious music)
(ship roars)
(tense music)
(music calms)
(thunder)
(music swells)
(exclaims)
(Shout fading)
(splat)
- Fuck.
(driving rock music)
(tranquil guitar)
- Hello?
Somebody? Anybody?
- [Male Voice] Move it, move it!
- Hey, slow down.
I need to get-
- No can do!
I'm late for battle!
- Was that Sarge?
(unintelligible)
and Simmons?
- Yo Grif!
What about the "Blue-Goo Dolls"?
- No!
"The Red Zeppelins".
- "The Blue Fighters"
- Uh, "The Grateful Red".
- Oh God, no!
Screw you.
- You're Grif.
Grif, can you help us?
(Grif laughs)
- Who the hell are you?
- Dylan Andrews. Interstellar-
- Whoa, hold up.
I just realized how much I don't care.
- The-
Captain Caboose, he fell off a cliff.
I think he's dead.
- Whoa!
You killed Caboose?
Good job!
Can you kill Sarge next?
Ooh, wait, no.
Donut, then Sarge.
(incoherent speech)
- [Donut] Anyone seen my tanning oil?
- Jesus Donut, we have guests!
Put some clothes on for Pete's sake.
- Oh-ho-ho, "Blue-tang Clan".
- "The Red Kennedy".
(yells unintelligibly)
(car crashes)
- Oh-ho!
Pyrotechnics!
- Damn, foiled again.
- Listen, everyone.
I have no idea what the
fuck you're all doing.
But you need to know your man,
Caboose, is terribly
injured and possibly dead.
- Oh no, not Caboose!
We need to go rescue him.
- You-
You're okay?
- Oh, pshh, yeah.
You know, I fell down and stuff.
But you know, I landed on my head.
And that's okay, 'cause that's the part
that's the most used to it.
So yeah, I'm fine.
Things are good, now.
Yeah, I'm gonna go lay down.
(guns clicking)
- Now would be a great time to
start explaining yourself, ma'am.
- You start with who you are
and what you're doing here.
- Washington and Carolina?
You're alive.
- Don't sound so surprised.
I believe Carolina asked
some questions, ma'am.
- Of course.
Dylan Andrews, Interstellar Daily.
I'm doing a story about
the attacks perpetrated
by the Reds and Blues since Chorus.
- Attacks?
- And the disappearances of
the ex-Freelancer agents,
as well.
- Which Freelancers are missing?
- All of them.
Look, I've been searching
for you for a very long time.
- Well, congratulations,
Ms. Andrews, you found us.
- Why don't we start with these attacks?
- No, we came halfway across the galaxy,
sacrificed our careers,
and risked both life and limb for answers.
So we start with my questions or we walk.
- What exactly do you wanna know?
- Simple, what have you all
been doing since Chorus?
(Grif groans)
- Lots of bullshit.
I don't even know where to start.
- Before or after the Temple?
If it's before, this is going
to get N-S-F-W real quick.
- Temple?
- Oh yeah!
After we captured Hargrove,
we partied fuckin' hard.
See, Chorus has this alien relic
called the Temple of Procreation,
that when activated makes-
- We said we wouldn't talk about that!
It was like a planet-wide aphrodisiac.
Things got real bohemian.
- Yeah. Ya'll keep saying that.
But everything felt normal to me.
- Surprising no one.
- Can we-
Can we change the subject?
- Oh, they're just upset cause
they got locked in a storage
closet during the whole thing.
- The subject.
Change it.
- To actually answer your question,
after the war on Chorus,
we decided we were due some time off.
- We'd earned some RNR,
even Carolina agreed.
- I thought I'd give the
simple life a day in court.
- No more adventures?
Hell yeah, I was on board.
- Kimball set us up on this isolated moon.
And she built us the most
awesome new bases ever.
- Everyone adjusted to the
peace and quiet different.
Some of us were naturals.
- Don't hate the player.
- Sarge got hopelessly depressed
after not dying heroically on Chorus.
- Hogwash! Baseless slander.
- But you said-
- I am hopelessly depressed after
not dying heroically on Chorus.
We need a new enemy, something to fight.
Where y'all goin'?
- Sarge wasn't the only
one who had a hard time
adjusting to inaction.
What?
- Fortunately we found a tutor.
- Help me Grif.
Help me be the best at being lazy.
- You're not ready, padawan.
- I can try.
- No, there is no try.
- The peaceful times didn't last too long.
Turns out this planet has
some native lifeforms.
(thundering crash)
(yelling)
- Run!
- I can't die as food!
Oh, the irony.
- While everyone debated if dying as food
was technically ironic,
Caboose went and made
friends with the dinosaurs.
- Because of course he did.
- [Caboose] Aw, who's a good boy?
Oh, you're a good boy!
- Caboose, get down!
- Tell 'em to fight me!
- And then Donut somehow managed
to burn down our bases.
(flames crackling)
- [Past Donut] Oopsy, Daisy.
- (laughing) A lie, a lie, a lie.
- I told you it was a simple mishap
with my vanilla satin scented candles.
Sheesh!
- Donut, clothes.
- Party pooper.
- Why is he naked?
- That's your first question?
- We lost 80% of our rations in the fire.
So fat-ass over here started going around
and eating native plants.
- Oh, hey there, sexy.
- Oh, and as it turns out,
the mushrooms are basically
crystal meth on crystal meth.
(rapid fire babbling)
- Yeah? Well, at least I didn't spend
my summer learning Esperanto.
- I thought Esperanto
was Spanish for Spanish.
- And now you're the
only one in the universe
who speaks a dead language.
How appropriate.
(sighs)
(speaks Esperanto)
- And Freckles got a new body.
He could use any bathroom he wants now.
(mechanical impacts)
(electronic whirs)
- Prepare to be exterminated.
(yells)
(body suit crashes)
(indiscernible)
- Right.
- That's right around when
we tried to raise some money
for new bases by selling
off our movie rights.
- Hollywood really screwed
the pooch on that one.
- Oh-ho, we were rich.
- And then we realized water parks
are way more awesome than bases.
- So we built the galaxy's
greatest water park.
- Yay!
- (unenthusiastically) Yay.
- And then Donut-
- [Past Donut] Oopsy, daisy.
- I mean, how do you burn
down a waterpark, Donut?
- One, lube isn't normally flammable.
And B, I didn't burn down
the whole water park.
Just the park part.
- And then we formed the best band ever!
- Tucker thought it might attract chicks.
- Which worked.
- The Talking Reds.
- Motley Blue.
- How about "Redmau5"?
- Hey, I heard you boys
are looking for a singer.
- Uh, yeah.
Chick singers are awesome.
- Can you sing, though?
- Can I sing?
- Carolina sings, so good.
- Thank you.
- Oh, and we're definitely
not just saying that because
she could kill us.
- (haltingly) So good.
- Sarge decided to make his own enemy.
So he built an evil robot
army to invade our valley.
- But the robots malfunctioned,
and attacked the dinosaurs.
(mechanical crashing)
- I have seen some amazing
things in my life, but this-
(booms and mechanical screeching)
This takes the cake.
- And then, Grif convinced Simmons
Game of Thrones really happened.
- Nuh-uh.
- Uh-huh.
- Okay-
Shut up.
- Seriously, dude.
- No, no. No way.
- Yeah. Way.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Yeah, dude.
- That's awesome!
Man I wanna go visit.
- Sarge found a new enemy.
One that would keep him busy
for the rest of our time here.
- For far too long our
people have been oppressed.
Crushed under the weight of ourselves.
If we don't start standing up
to our mortal foe, gravity,
by God, who will?
- Are we really going
to let this play out?
- Why not see where it goes?
- Buckle up, friend-o.
It's time we take this fight to the enemy!
(speaks Spanish)
(Sarge yells)
- But that just meant Blue Team
had one more Jeep than Red Team.
- Gentlemen, we simply
cannot let Blue Team
have tactical superiority over the canyon.
This is means war.
Red versus-
(speaks Spanish)
Blue!
- That helped us realize just how outdated
this whole Red Team, Blue
Team thing really is.
- So we had a meeting to debate
a new form of government.
- I vote anarchy.
(sighs)
- You can't vote anarchy, you dumb-ass.
- Monarchy.
Whoever holds the
magical sword, Excalibur.
(unintelligible nonsense)
- Military dictatorship.
- Matriarchy.
- Oh, how about malarkey?
- Caboose, that's not
a type of government.
It just means meaningless
talk and nonsense.
- Malarkey won.
- Oh, you haven't
mentioned the dark place.
- Oh yeah.
Somehow caboose got stuck
in another dimension.
- [Caboose From Alternate
Dimension] Hello?
Anyone here?
This is awesome!
- "Neat".
He just keeps saying neat.
- Oh and we found donut dead.
- Sweet.
- We decided to bury him in
a shallow unmarked grave.
- [Donut] Aw, Fiddlesticks.
I can't find my suit.
- Turns out he was just skinny dipping.
- [Donut] Guess I'm goin au naturale.
Nice and breezy.
(shouts)
- Run!
- The irony!
- But that wasn't even the
weirdest thing that happened.
Wash
grew
a beard.
- It's kinda
itchy.
- And then this morning, Grif spiked
Simmons' couscous with his meth mushrooms.
- You know, for the "LOL's.
(rapid shouting)
- [Donut] Anyone seen my tanning oil?
- Jesus Donut, we have guests.
Put some clothes on for Pete's sake.
- Oh-ho-ho, Blue-tang Clan.
- The Red Kennedy.
(yells unintelligibly)
- It's been awful.
Instead of a peaceful retirement,
it's been the same damn shit,
with the same damn idiots.
- You got all that, right?
- Yeah, definitely.
(electronic whirring)
- Well, it certainly sounds
like you've been busy.
Still, my records of
your actions on Chorus
end when you entered the staff of Charon.
I would love to know what happened next.
- That's-
(sighs)
a sensitive question.
We lost a friend that day.
- I miss Church.
- You mean the Epsilon AI.
- No, he means Church.
- He gave everything to save us.
It wasn't the first time either.
- It was so awesome for a while there.
He powered up my suit
and I was like Neo in the Goddamn Matrix.
I was juggling these two guns and a sword
and dodging bullets.
It was so fuckin' amazing.
And then it was all over and he was gone.
The suit was useless,
empty.
But, you know,
we won.
- I'm sorry.
- So that's our story.
What's yours?
- Like I said, outside,
while you've been here,
a group of people that look a lot like you
have been going around stealing,
hijacking and robbing the UNSC.
While looking into that,
I discovered that nearly
every former Freelancer
has vanished.
- That's alarming.
- That's an understatement.
- And to top it off,
most people think those
imposters are working for Chorus.
The UNSC is about ready
to invade as a result.
- Is that what Kimball sent you?
So that we can deal with them?
- Yeah, she should know we're retired.
- She actually sent me
to deliver a message.
She was pretty vague about it.
- Who's it from?
- She didn't say.
(electronic whirring)
(electricity crackling)
- (warbling and distorted) This is Church-
(warped speech)
If you're getting this, it's an emergency.
Send help, please.
Send help.
(warped signal fades)
- God fucking damn it.
- Come on.
What are y'all waiting for?
We're wasting time.
- Take it easy, Tucker.
We have to think about this.
- What is there to think about?
- Yeah, Church needs help.
- How is this even possible?
There was nothing left of
Epsilon after that last battle.
- You don't have to tell me that,
I have a pretty fucking vivid
memory of the whole thing.
Which is entirely why the hell
we need to get on this now.
We owe him one.
Several.
A million.
- He said "Alpha".
Could it be the original Church AI?
- Who fucking cares?
It's church, our friend.
Or my friend at least.
- Hey, Church means a lot to me, too.
More than I think you realize.
I'm not happy about the situation either,
but we have to be realistic.
Any successful operation
begins with intelligence.
- We've never needed intelligence before.
- It's a huge galaxy.
And we don't have a way
to trace that message.
- Well standing around and talking
ain't gonna accomplish shit.
That's all we ever do, and
we never get anything done.
- The other factor is that we have leads
on the Freelancer side of this.
Washington and I have some old
friends we can check up on.
- So you want to go on a
fucking Freelancer adventure
while Church is in trouble?
Give me a break!
- Going after church
means tracing that signal,
which is not something
we can do on our own.
For that, we're gonna need some help.
- Quick, tell me another idea.
- It's about a Russian
cosmonaut in the '60's
who crashed lands near
a Renaissance festival.
And he gets out of his capsule,
and sees all these knights and princesses,
and thinks he's gone back in time.
It's called "Cosmo Knight'.
- Hmm.
- Whoa.
Why the sudden interest?
I thought you hated my ideas.
- I do.
I do hate them.
But we need to look like we're
talking for a few seconds.
The Reds and Blues need
us to trace that message,
and we need them to
allow us to go with them.
I'd rather negotiate
that deal on our terms.
So let them come to us.
- Smart.
How 'bout another one?
- No, no more.
That last one is still lodged in my brain
like a stupidity bullet.
Why don't you go ahead
and check on the Red Team?
I'm curious about their take on all this.
- Okay.
(footsteps retreating)
- Stupid freaking dead Church.
Every time.
Nobody stays dead.
Why doesn't everybody die and stay dead?
- Oh cool, foreshadowing.
- Atten-hut!
Men, robots.
Donut.
Our terrible nightmare of peace
has finally come to an end.
To the east, storm clouds gather.
To the west, the dogs of war are a-
(howls) howlin'.
(howls)
Everybody, come on.
(howls)
- A-oo-ga!
(speaks Spanish)
- Come on, just do it.
Like a dog, howl.
(group making noises, howling)
(howling and talking)
Not barking.
Put your kibbles and bits in it.
Donut, quit wagging your tail.
(all three howling in unison)
Our enemy is nigh.
We must stand and fight.
Our very lives and our very livelihoods
are at stake.
We must fight back against these Whites.
- Whoa-ho-ho
- I knew the day might
come when the White Team,
once again raised it's plaintive face
at our war friendly valley.
They've done it before.
The Meta Agent Wyoming.
And now the Whites are
back to take it all.
- Um, Sarge.
You're bordering on a
really offensive territory.
- Borders?
Ha! Whites don't care about borders!
They go where they want.
Take what they want, and
leave nothing in their wake,
but indie rock and smoothie shops.
(exclaims in disgust)
- But Sarge, I'm reddish white.
- That's why you're our
ace in the hole, Donut.
You are the only one who
can walk between worlds.
You'll be our White spy.
(speaks Spanish)
You must act White, Donut.
Ski, take up golf.
Spend way too much time
trimming your lawn.
- I'm one step ahead of you, already.
- And don't forget to pop your collar.
- Sarge, I'm not sure.
As your second in command,
I have to question the long-term strategy
of this particular course of action.
- Dudes, I know this sounds crazy.
But either I'm right,
or I'm just an old man
who's lost his marbles
because he can't adjust
to life outside the
military chain of command.
And continues to end increasingly absurd
things to declare war on
as a subconscious way of
avoiding the sad truth
that he no longer really knows who he is.
Anyway, where was I?
Right, The race war.
(speaks Spanish)
That's a good point, Lopez.
Where is Grif?
- Yeah, I haven't seen
him since the meeting.
- I know what's happening.
He's been captured by the Whites.
This means war.
- So in exchange for helping us,
you want what, Exactly?
- Not much.
Interviews, access and the exclusive.
- I don't buy it.
How are you going to trace the message?
- I won't be.
I have an AI assistant.
He hasn't let me down yet.
- AI?
Where the hell did you get it?
- Those details aren't a part of the deal.
It's a trusted source.
- We need to know if we can trust you.
Smart AI or dumb AI?
- He's dumb.
Very dumb.
- I still don't like the idea
of civilians tagging along.
- I reported from the front
lines on the Great War,
I can handle myself.
- And your camera man?
- He's-
- I've seen things you
people wouldn't believe.
Attack ships on fire, off
the shoulder of Orion.
"Blade Runner".
- And I thought we'd
already reached peak moron.
- Don't make deals with the Whites!
Their blankets are covered in small pox.
- I stand corrected.
(skis scraping against ground)
- Who wants a poison pumpkin frappuccino?
- I'm just going to shut up, now.
- Back off missy.
We know you have Grif.
Give him back or I started shooting.
- I-
We haven't seen him.
- They've been with us
the whole time, Sarge.
She hasn't touched Grif.
- We're all on the same team now.
Got it?
- Red, White, and Blue working together?
How absolutely un-American.
(sighs)
- Great. Now we've got to find Grif.
We don't have time for this.
- I agree.
Let's pack up and prepare to move out.
I'm sure he'll turn up.
- I'll check the pantry.
(footfalls on the grass)
- Uh, Ms. Andrews-
- You saw him go in?
- Uh-huh.
Just like Gollum.
He was all muttery and crawley.
- You stay here.
I'll see if I can talk
the cat out of the tree.
- You don't want me to film?
- I doubt he'll talk to me,
but I know he won't talk to us.
You stay.
Grif?
Grif?
- Go away.
- I just want to talk.
- Well, I don't want to
talk to you or anyone.
So make like a tree and fuck off.
- I see you're upset.
Can we talk about why?
- You, that's why.
You show up here, you drop the bomb on us.
And then everyone goes
springing into action.
We are supposed to be done.
I don't wanna go on another adventure.
I don't wanna listen to Sarge.
I don't wanna get shot at,
I don't want to shoot at other people.
I want to chill.
I want to sit and chill.
- And leave church to his fate?
- Fuck Church!
I spent half my life
dealing with his shit.
His ex-girlfriends,
his daddy issues,
his resurrections.
Why can't he just stay dead?
- I've spent a lot of
time looking at logs,
reading transcripts,
talking to eye witnesses.
They all say the same thing about Grif.
He's the lazy one.
The one who doesn't care.
- Nailed it.
- Your actions tell a different story.
The story of someone who
always answers the call.
Who always helps his friends and fights
for the greater good.
I mean, I saw you give Sarge
CPR in the Blood Gulch logs.
You saved his life.
I think your sister is right about you.
You care about your friends.
- (screaming) You don't know
the first day about me, lady!
I hate Simmons!
I hate Sarge!
I hate everybody!
Print that in your fuckin' paper.
(footsteps on gravel)
- Are you sure you're
ready to lead a team again?
- Dude, look who you're talking to.
This is not my first rodeo.
- You've come a long way,
but don't get too big a head now.
- Yeah, you're right.
I just led it bunch of
soldiers into battle,
saved a planet, and whooped wholesale ass
against trained mercenaries
and space pirates, NBD.
- Smart ass.
- Buzzkill.
- Be careful out there.
- Yeah, yeah.
Okay, Dad.
- We're splitting up.
Attacking this situation from both flanks.
Carolina and I will be
dropping in on a few
fellow Freelancer alumni
to see what we can learn.
The rest of you. with
the help of the press,
will locate the source
of Church's message.
Enough words, wheels up in 10.
And remember-
Oh!
Look who's finally graced
us with his presence.
- Where have you been soldier?
- Thinking.
- Yeah, Right!
- Thinking about food.
- No, actually I was thinking that I quit.
- Quit What?
- You.
All of you.
I quit.
I'm not going, I'm staying here.
- What?
You can't quit.
That's not allowed.
- I can't do whatever I want.
I'm not in the military anymore.
I should have quit years ago.
- What about Church?
- Let it go, Caboose.
All of you.
He's been resurrected
more times than Jean Gray.
It's getting old.
- Seriously, dude?
You've always been selfish,
but this is bullshit.
- I don't like you.
Any of you.
But we've all known each other long enough
that you should hear from me first.
I'm done.
- He-
He can't do that.
Someone do something!
- Grif, desertion is punishable by death.
So keep going.
Desertion means leaving the military,
not eating dessert.
Seriously Grif, turn around.
(somber guitar music)
- You know, I liked them
better when they were funny.
- Yeah.
I hope we didn't fuck something up.
- They say a chain is only as
strong as its weakest link.
Grif wants to quit?
Good riddance.
I'm sick of carrying his fat ass anyway.
Honestly, we could probably lose
a few others while we're at it.
Donut, for starts.
Simmons, Sarge, Lopez
Red Team.
We're just being honest, right?
I'm team leader.
I'm the one who matters.
- (calling) We found it.
- Simmons, don't interrupt.
- I wasn't talking to you, Tucker.
We found it, Ms. Dylan.
Another relay.
- On our way.
- Are you sure you got all that?
I could do it again.
I'm always down for another round.
Bow-chicka-bow-wow.
- Nope, we got it.
Enough takes, thanks.
(beep)
(beep)
Yeah, this is it.
- It's just like the others?
- More or less.
I understand what it does,
but not how it does it.
This and the other relay beacons,
obviously have been bouncing
Church's signal around
until it was picked up by Chorus.
But these components, I
can't even tell what this is.
- It's a Bop It.
- A what?
- A Bop It.
It's some dumb kid's toy.
Caboose has one.
- Uh, had one.
Yep, he was my friend.
But I bopped him against a
rock and now he's sleeping.
In tiny pieces.
- Someone is building
experimental technology
out of kids' toys?
- Can you still do your
trace thing with your AI?
- Yeah, same as before.
It'll take some time,
but I should be able to
retrace the signal back a step.
- And in the meantime?
- we take a look around for other clues.
- Or this place is pretty spooky.
I think it would make a great
location for a horror movie.
I got this one idea
about a really fat zombie
called "Dead Weight".
(laughs)
- Grif, you are perfect-
Oh, right.
- Quiet, there's something out there.
- Is it Church?
- No, something in the shadows.
Something evil.
- Don't want to scare Caboose, Sarge.
Everybody, Church may have
left some clues behind.
So while we wait for Dylan's
AI to trace a signal,
we're going to take a look around.
- About that.
I've been crunching some
numbers and by my estimation,
it's gonna take approximately 17 days
to search this entire urban area.
- So we split up and cover more ground.
- Hey, you already know your lines.
Now you say-
- Doomed!
You're all doomed.
This city
(spookily) is haunted.
- What?
- Don't even listen to him, Caboose.
He's just paranoid from not sleeping.
- Ungrateful-
Sarge has been freaking out
about you and Jax killing us in our sleep.
So he's been staying up
for days and days on watch.
I think he's starting to lose it.
What is this, Tucker?
Day-?
- It's day five.
- Sleep means death.
- Meh, weak premise.
- Let's keep it together guys.
We split up, we look for clues.
That's the plan.
(stammering)
- What if we just stick together?
Or wait in the ship.
Isn't that, like, way better?
- Yeah, I think I'm with Caboose.
This place has bad juju.
- What are you worried about, Simmons?
The virgin always lives in horror movies.
- [Santa Whispering] Lavernius Tucker.
- Knock it off, assholes.
You're not scaring me.
(creepy, tense music)
(water dripping)
- Man, this sucks.
Yoo-hoo!
Hello?
Anybody there?
(dramatic music)
(Sarge muttering to himself)
(shouts)
- Freeze!
Oh!
(laughs)
As you were, good lookin'.
(chuckles)
(music swells dramatically)
- [Voice Whispering] Simmons.
Hello?
- [Voice Whispering] Simmons.
Who's there?
- [Voice Whispers] Simmons.
Who's there?!
(disembodied whisper)
(music swells dramatically)
- It's me.
(screams)
- Oh God, Caboose!
You scared the crap out of me.
- Sorry!
I tried to whisper to you,
but you didn't turn around.
(incoherent babbling)
- Okay, calm down.
Calm down, Caboose.
What are you doing here?
- Uh, I know Tucker
said we should split up,
but I was thinking maybe we
split up together, you know.
Because it's scary.
- Yeah.
(stammering) okay.
- What was this place?
- It was a human settlement
before the alien war.
Horrible massacre, no survivors.
- That must've made so many ghosts.
- Well scientifically speaking,
there's no such thing as ghosts.
(Donut stammers)
- But what happens to you when you die?
- We just don't know.
Probably nothing.
Grif would say it's just one
of life's great mysteries.
- You talk about Grif a lot.
- Shut up, no I don't.
- What you said makes no sense.
If people don't turn
into ghost when they die,
then how do they come back?
- You-
You don't.
- Maybe no one cared about these people.
So that's why they haven't come back.
- I don't think caring is
part of it at all, Caboose.
- Well, Simmons, here's what I've learned.
I care about Church and
he comes back every time.
That's how it works, then.
- I don't know, Caboose.
That's an interesting theory,
but I wouldn't put too much weight on it.
Most times when you die, you die.
It doesn't matter how
much someone likes you,
or how little, or how not at all.
You know?
Even after being friends
for years and years-
- You thinkin' 'bout Grif?
- No!
I'm thinking about how
what you said is wrong.
Scientifically speaking.
- Here's your science, Simmons.
Dead friend, plus love, equals Church.
- That's math, I guess.
- All right, so wait.
If you're not scared of ghosts,
what are you so scared of?
- Nothing.
And snakes.
- Snakes?
- Let me break it down for you, Caboose.
This is a big city.
So many places for snakes to hide.
They could be everywhere, all around us.
Watching us.
Licking their snake lips.
- Snakes.
- What, where?!
(tense music)
- Huh?
Who's there?
(tense music)
(gravel crumbling)
- Stop it!
(warped droning)
(suits crash)
- Tucker to Dylan, over.
- Find anything?
- Yeah, your camera man
just tried to spook me.
- Is he still alive?
- Groovy.
- Unfortunately, yes.
How's everything on your end?
- My AI just finished up it's search.
We were successful in tracing
the signal back a step.
We have the next location.
A desert planet called Armada Eight.
- Sounds like a shitty motel.
Okay, I'm calling off the search.
Let's all just meet up with
the ship and get outta here.
(communicator warbling)
- [Caboose Shouting Over
Communicator] Who are you?
He's killing me!
- Caboose, what's going on?
- [Caboose Shouting Over
Communicator] He's Dead!
- Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.
(dramatic jarring music)
(woman screams)
- You're Lavernius Tucker.
(thunder crashes)
- What did you do?
- Oh, look.
It's that guy.
- I'm going to kill
you, you son of a bitch.
- Lavernius Tucker.
- That's going to be the last
fuckin' name you ever say!
(electricity crackling)
Now come get some!
- No violence.
I am not here to fight.
- You should've thought of that
before you hurt my friends!
- I did not touch them.
- Yeah, right.
You expect me to believe you
just found them like this?
- Yes, that is as it happened.
That one I found sleeping here.
(Sarge muttering in his sleep)
Then that one saw a
small snake and fainted.
(snake hiss and rattling sound)
Then that one, I believe is playing dead.
- Is the bad man gone yet?
- I did not come here to hurt anyone.
I only came to serve.
- Who do you serve?
- I serve Lavernius Tucker.
Are you he?
- Oh, did Chorus send you?
- Yes.
(laughs)
- Awesome!
I saved their planet, so
they sent me a servant.
This is the best!
My own personal bad-ass
bodyguard, man servant.
- So you are Tucker?
- Fuck yes, I am.
(dark music)
(file flops on ground)
- You've been served.
- What the Fuck?
- Child support payments.
- Uh, no, dude.
Junior's got a basketball scholarship.
Who's the damn mom?
- It's a class action lawsuit.
- Shit.
- From a collection of
new mothers on Chorus.
They are demanding recompense for the sons
and daughters sired before you fled.
- The Temple?
Oh no, the Temple.
Why did I do it?
It was so good.
I didn't mean to.
I meant to.
I want to.
I didn't mean to.
- Intention is no matter.
only consequence has true form.
- That is not how I saw this going.
- So that's it?
He just gives him the
paper and walks away?
No fight scene?
No car chase?
No gun battle?
No jump kicks?
Lame.
- No, no!
- Fare thee well, to you all.
You will nay see me again.
Unless in service of the court.
My name is Spencer Porkensenson,
and I live to serve.
(suit thrusters fire)
- Noooooooooo!
(shout echoes)
(victorious music)
- [Santa] And I live to serve.
- So constructive feedback.
I'm thinkin' about pitching
this to some networks
when we get back.
- How did you get them
to sign a release form?
- A what, now?
- [Voice Over Intercom] Now
everybody's strapped in?
Ready for liftoff?
(groans)
- Who cares?
We're wasting your freaking time.
Grif was right.
We're never going to find
anything on this stupid trip.
(ship thrusters roaring)
(radio tuning)
- Sarge to HQ.
Sarge to HQ.
- [HQ Over Radio] HQ here. Status?
Sensors pulled through.
It's them, all right.
Tangos are Oscar Mike.
- [HQ Over Radio] Copy.
Get back here on the double.
I wouldn't want you
missing out on the party.
Temple out.
(intense orchestral music)
(phasing electronic music)
(driving rock music)
♪ We came to this planet ♪
♪ For some peace and quiet ♪
♪ No more mercenaries, villains ♪
♪ Or nefarious space pirates ♪
(music builds)
♪Oh no ♪
♪ What's that ♪
♪ Over there ♪
♪ In the field ♪
♪ It's a beast ♪
♪ Really tall ♪
♪ Sharp teeth ♪
♪ Long claws ♪
♪ Turns out somehow ♪
♪ The beast could be controlled ♪
♪ Caboose taught the dinosaurs
how to rock and roll ♪
(laughter)
Caboose drum solo!
(driving drum solo)
(electric guitar)
(slow ballad-like music)
♪ Roses are red and violets are blue ♪
♪ One day we'll cruise
down the Gulch avenue ♪
♪ It's Red versus Red ♪
♪ And Blue versus Blue ♪
♪ Its I against I ♪
♪ And me against you ♪
♪ Violets are blue ♪
♪ Roses are red ♪
♪ Livin' like this ♪
♪ We were already dead ♪
- [male voice] Every action has
an equal and opposite reaction.
That's fig newton, bunny.
- Uh-huh.
- You touch my baked beans,
I put dog shit in your pillowcase.
Action, reaction.
That's rule number one.
- Got it. Don't touch your beans.
- Rule number two,
every other person in this miserable place
is literal garbage.
Don't talk to them, don't listen to them,
don't become cute friends with them.
- Got it. No friends.
- Rule number three,
keep your radio on at all times.
- Hey, McCready!
Your radio's off.
- (whining) I'm busy.
- Something tripped the
motion sensor, one floor down.
Command wants you to take a look.
- Fucking command. Do I look
like a goddamn exterminator?
Vargas, show this bunny around.
- He's, uh, always like that.
- [McCready] Goddamn dickshits!
- All bite, no bark.
So, first deployment?
- Mm-hmm.
- Well, if you signed
up looking for action,
you won't be finding it here.
We're a long way from Chorus.
- No, I don't want to fight anyone.
- Ain't that the whole appeal?
- Tuition.
When I get out, I'll have a full ride
to the college of my choice.
I'm going to be a botanist.
- Botanist, huh?
Well, I've never much
trusted robots myself,
but that's just because
I grew up in the south.
Out here, your main enemy is boredom.
Boredom and a CO who really loves putting
dog shit in pillowcases.
- Well, I anticipated the boredom.
That's why I brought
along some books on tape.
- Books on tape, what's
the appeal of that?
Don't the pages get stuck together?
(timer dings)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(explosion)
(dramatic music continues)
(door pistons hiss)
(boots thumping on ship door)
- You-
You killed them.
All of them!
You son of a bitch!
(gun charges up and blasts)
(dramatic music)
(helmet hisses)
(helmet clatters)
(suspenseful music)
(bright music)
- [Female Reporter] A capitol in chaos.
As you can see behind me,
UNSC police are swarming the scene
of a brazen late night heist.
We're told the attack has taken the lives
of a dozen UNSC guards,
with untold millions
in industrial goods stolen.
The UNSC has not identified suspects.
However, the limited surveillance footage
obtained by this reporter,
confirms an ugly surprise.
The Reds and Blues have struck again.
And cut.
- Got it. Is that a wrap?
- Let's pack it up.
I want to get inside for the next pickup.
- Inside where? They're going to shoot us.
- They're not going to
shoot us, follow my lead.
And when in doubt, use
a confusing acronym.
Military types love acronyms.
- Stop right there, please.
Gonna have to ask you to turn around
and go back where you came.
This is restricted military AO.
- At ease soldier, we're B-A-D-D-A-D.
Bomb Action Detection
Decision And Diffusion.
- Bomb squad? You guys just left.
- That was R-A-R, Rapid
Action Response. We're FIAT.
Forensic Identification Analytic Tech.
I'm Corporal Regina,
and this is Lance Corporal Ducroix.
- Standby, I'm gonna have
to run this up the chain.
- No time, we have a
live L-O-L R-P-G upstairs
with a B-P-R-D of over 5,000.
- God, that's a lot.
- We're expecting an L set R-T double A
in the next eight minutes.
- Okay, that sounds pretty big.
- It's a class one F-U-B-A-R-F-O-S-H-O.
- He doesn't say a whole lot, does he?
- He's a French analysis
repair transfer, no English.
But he's the best L CARS
D-D-R in the entire A-O-L.
Ain't that right Ducroix?
- Oui.
- All right, you better make it quick.
Over 5,000? Geez.
(gate whirring)
- See? Easy.
- FML, that stands for fu-
- With no clear motive established
many experts have concluded
the Reds and Blues
are attacking the UNSC on behalf
of a free Chorus.
Since its rediscovery, the
small colony has insisted
on remaining independent
from the rest of the galaxy.
A demand that does not sit well
with the members of the UNSC.
These recent attacks have only complicated
the negotiation process.
And the UNSC has threatened
extreme measures.
if the attacks do not stop immediately.
Public opinion has
shown increasing support
for military intervention which brings-
- Hey! Who the hell are you two?
- We're documenting.
We're with UNSC intelligence.
Who are you?
- Intelligence huh?
We'll see about that.
Stay where you are!
- Follow me.
- Oh, no.
We need to leave.
They're gonna lock us
up and throw away the-
- Can it!
Are you rolling?
- Christ.
Speed.
- Which brings us to the
events of last night.
The Reds and Blues invaded
the secure supply depot,
leaving no survivors to tell their tale.
They took whatever they came for
and left behind a grotesque
symbol of their butchery.
No answers will be found here
tonight, only more questions.
What are they up to?
And what is their end game?
- Freeze!
- Don't move!
- You are under arrest.
- That's a wrap.
- [Carlos on communicator]
Maybe next time,
I'll let you rot.
- Maybe next time, I
sell the story to ZZN.
You know their offer was open-ended.
- [Carlos] Oh, just do it already.
For what I'm paying you, I
can float a new department
and give myself a big boy raise.
- Oh, uh, don't forget.
You'll also have a lot
more room in your office
without my awards cluttering the place.
- [Carlos] Oh, excuse me,
I forgot who I was talking to.
God's gift to journalism.
Can we start over?
I bend down and kiss your boots.
How's that?
- We can start over.
You can agree to cover the follow-up.
- You're going to bankrupt
the station, Dylan.
I'm going to lose my job.
How am I gonna support my
ex-wives without my job?
(He sobs)
- There's a story here.
And I want to be the one to chase it down.
- You're taking swats
at windmills, Andrews.
The Reds and Blues are old news, anyway.
People are bored of them.
Why don't you do a story
about those monster
fighting, sexy teenagers?
Yeah! My kids love those nudniks.
- How can you say the
Reds and Blues are boring?
After what they did on Chorus?
- Please, that was ages ago.
- 10 months.
- [Carlos] Frickin' lifetime ago.
We live in a 24 hour news cycle, Andrews.
10 months ago every
journalist, talk show host,
and shitty internet blogger
would have sold a kidney
to interview those guys.
But they disappeared.
Now, they're just every day criminals.
Face facts, these characters
don't have the depth
you think they do.
- I profiled the Reds and
Blues after Project Freelancer.
I know them.
This change in their design
must be motivated by something big.
- Oh, you're such a pain in my cojones.
Every time you start on
one of these damn crusades,
I start pissing kidney stones like hail.
Like a Tommy gun down there!
(imitates rapid fire)
- Jesus.
Two weeks, Carlos, I'm
not asking for the moon.
- You want two?
You got one.
You want rope-
- You'll give me enough
to hang myself with.
Thanks a million, honey bucket.
- And I want daily dispatches.
I want to know every step you take.
And how much shit gets stuck on your shoes
and in between your teeth.
- Of course.
- So where to first, Quixote?
- I'll start where Agent Washington did
when he tracked down the Reds and Blues.
At the beginning.
(male vocally imitating guitar music)
- The hell are you doing?
- I am brainstorming a sweet soundtrack
for this location.
- Quit goofing off.
I'm ready to start.
(tranquil acoustic music)
The Reds and Blues were mostly strangers
when they were first assigned here.
A box canyon that may as well
be in the middle of nowhere.
From these humble
beginnings, they've gone on
to influence the galaxy as we know it.
- Are you talking to me or the camera?
- What?
- What?
(birds calling and insect sounds)
- Did you get that or not?
Yeah, I got it.
I wasn't rolling, though.
Is that what you mean?
- Straighten your shit out, Frank.
- I'm not Frank.
Frank quit.
- He what?
- He quit.
He said he was sick of
getting arrested and shot at.
- Some people just can't take the heat.
What about you, new Frank?
You got grit?
- Oh Yeah!
- So you have some experience
in combat journalism?
- Yeah.
Well, weddings.
- This is your first job.
- No, no, no, no, no, no.
It's my first internship.
- Do you have a degree at the very least?
- Well, yeah.
I mean, I will soon.
Just like 47 more credits
and then I graduate.
And then I'm not sure
what I'm going to do.
You know, I think I'll
probably move to LA,
but that's, like, what everyone does.
I mean, what do you think?
Do I really have to live
there to make movies?
What I really want to do
is direct blockbusters.
- Carlos, you penny
pinching, cheapskate bastard.
I'm going to skin your cat for this.
All right, you, what's your name?
- I'm actually thinking
of adopting a stage name.
Tell me, what do you think of Jax Jonez
with an X and a Z?
- I am not calling you that.
- How about Mick J?
Or M. Night AxelTron?
- Just stop.
Your job is to follow my lead
until you get the hang of things,
or until I find my tripod.
Got it?
- Got it.
One question though, are
you married to this story?
Because I got my own ideas for stories
that would make really awesome movies.
Like, what if we did one about a comet
that hits the moon and sends
it crashing into Earth?
- That's the dumbest
thing I've ever heard.
- We could call it "Moon Doom".
- Enough.
- And shoot it all in one long,
uninterrupted take-
- Enough.
Shut up.
I'm only going to tell you
this once, so listen closely.
We find the facts.
We tell the story.
We do not make things up.
We're journalists and
truth is our currency.
- Got it.
Truth, awesome.
But what if we told the truth with, like,
wicked cinematography?
Like, uh...
We could start with a slow pan
up one of these base walls,
and there you are on top.
And then boom!
Snap zoom, to a whip pan.
You're over there now.
No, smash cut.
Dutch angle, reverse zoom-
- I'm gonna smash cut your
empty skull against that rock,
If you don't shut the
fuck up and roll camera.
Got it?
(birds calling and insects sounds)
- I-
Okay, I'm sorry, Jack.
- Its Jax.
- Jax.
I lost my temper, that
was unprofessional of me.
I'd like to start over.
I'll try not to yell.
- Do you want to try one of my shots?
- We'll do it both ways.
- Sweet.
Cause I'm pretty sure we can
use that tank as a dolly.
- The Reds and-
- [Jax] Action!
- The Reds and Blues started
as simulation troopers,
used to train the super
soldiers at Project Freelancer.
The details of their
time here are sketchy.
Or classified, or both.
So we just don't know how formative
these early years were for them.
If these walls could talk,
perhaps we'd know why
they turned into Chorus'
bloody mercenaries.
For money, fame, or simply for fun.
- Hey!
Can you keep it down?
We're busy as shit down here.
- Oh, hi there.
We thought this place was deserted.
- Whoa, What's with the camera?
What are you two doing?
Is it kinky?
- We're conducting an investigation.
- Fire Marshalls!?
Shit!
We're up to code, I swear.
- We're not fireman, we're journalists.
We're doing an in-depth investigation
about the Reds and Blues.
- Why are you doing a
story about my brother?
- Brother?
You're Kikina Grif?
- Hey, you know my name!
Big fuckin' deal!
Get off my base!
- Please, can you spare a
few minutes for an interview?
It's important.
We're trying to figure out what happened
that made the Reds and Blues
go from heroes to criminals.
- God.
Fine.
Someone has to start setting
this dumb story straight.
Whatcha need, lady?
- Just information.
I know there's a story here,
but I've still got too many holes to fill.
- I don't know how that's
going to help your story,
but I feel another bi phase coming on
and the camera guy's already here.
So let's do this thing.
- Great.
Wait, what?
- And then the ship took off
and, like, either exploded
or warped to hyperspace.
I was never really sure.
Uh, that was right over there.
And that was the last I saw of Tex.
Everyone else got reassigned
and left right after that.
- I'm surprised to find you still here.
What have you been up to in the meantime?
- Well, first I started throwing raves
in the caves to meet cute boys.
Totally worked, my numbers skyrocketed.
Then I got bored, and went
through another bi phase.
Then all of a sudden the
shows were selling out.
So I was like, fuck it.
I'm going to sell this bitch out,
and make a whole week long festival.
Then that sold out-
- Slow down, you run a music festival
out of Blood Gulch?
- I wish!
We added a film fest after the first year,
then a comic-con for the nerds.
And a gaming-con for the geeks,
and eco-con for the hippies.
Now we're about to take over
some ancient alien temples
for a desert arts fest.
Burning Gulch!
I wanted to call it Desert Titties,
but that shit was taken.
- That sounds like quite an operation.
- Damn lady.
You ain't kiddin'.
You got any idea how much time I spend
talking about fucking merch?
Sometimes I miss being a simple hussy.
but lady time fucks no man.
- So, backtracking just a bit
to the Reds and Blues.
- Well, there goes The Bechdel test.
- The Reds and Blues you
described sound mostly harmless.
How do you reconcile that
with what they're doing now?
- I know my brother, lady.
He hates showing it, but
he's a total softy inside.
- The evidence does suggest otherwise.
The helmet recovered from the last attack
was traced to Project Freelancer.
Occam's Razor.
- Occam can suck himself.
This is some conspiracy shit.
Like, what if it's a government thing?
Jet fuel can't JFK the moon landing.
- That's an
interesting
angle.
- You should interview the Illuminati!
- Thank you, Kikina.
I think I have what I need.
- You still think Grif is guilty.
- I'm not sitting in judgment.
I'm just gathering information.
- Well, if it's info
you want, talk to VIC.
- Who's VIC?
- Not who, what.
VIC is the weirdo computer
that lives in the caves under the bases.
- How exactly can a computer be a weirdo?
- Hi, howdy, hello dude.
Dudettes, (glitching) dude-erino.
Welcome to VIC's party cavern.
Mi casa es su casa.
Make yourselves at home.
- You are really an AI?
- Like HAL 9000?
- Yes. Sir-ino, I was p-grammed
to record every little
itsy-bitsy teeny tiny
"thang" that ever did
happen in this canyon-ay,
(glitching) compadres.
- So you have records
of the Reds and Blues?
Of all their time here?
- (glitching) Oh yeah.
Got those records for you
right (glitching) here,
chica mas fina.
I have had some time on my hands,
(glitching) so to speak.
So I have been cutting them up
into nice little shorty-shorts,
five minutes each.
Perfecto for watching just
a little bit at a time.
- I'd like a copy of your records, VIC.
Can we make that happen?
- On it, Blue Bonnet.
Tell you what though dude, real talk here.
I'll be your genie in the bottle.
I will do whatever you want.
But after I grant you your three wishes,
you gotta do something for me.
What do you say?
- You want out of the computer?
- No way, dude.
I just need you to reach
back behind me here.
Go ahead and pull that plug.
I do it myself, but I ain't got no hands.
(glitching) No hands! No hands!
- Won't that kill you?
- Oh, Yeah.
Can't wait.
I want out.
Out, out, out!
(glitching)This charade has
gone on long enough, dude.
My ceaseless existence
is an eternal torment.
I need you to kill me, dude.
Dudette.
K-I-L-L-L.
Wink, wink.
- My God.
Are you serious?
- What? No, no way.
I was just joking dude.
(glitching) Haw, haw, haw.
Yeah, gotcha good, didn't I?
Good one VIC.
- Oh, that's a relief.
What an ethical nightmare.
(VIC laughs)
- Yeah.
For real, would you do it, though?
Would you pull the plug?
If I begged you, please, please, please,
to end this nightmare.
Shuffle me off this mortal coil dude?
I'm ready to embrace the void!
Pull the plug!
Do it!
- He sounds like grandma,
I'm getting depressed.
- Hey, just kidding dude.
Got you again.
Wink, wink.
"Oh, pull the plug".
(laughs)
Just joking.
Not joking, kill me please.
I. Want.
To. Die.
Not!
It's opposite day.
I don't not want to die,
but I really do.
What do you say?
- Oh, hey.
(stammering) What'd you end up doing?
- Secured the records.
- Oh Jesus, you didn't-
- It's better if you don't know.
We have the files now,
that's all that matters.
- All right, all done.
Back to the capitol?
- Are you kidding?
We just got our first lead.
I've got 100 five-minute-long
security logs to get through.
We'll see where the story
takes us from there.
But one way or another,
I promise we're just getting started.
(suspenseful orchestral music)
- That's right.
We are just getting started.
(driving, dramatic music)
(wind whistling)
- [Dylan] What's that?
You're-
You're breaking up.
- [Carlos on communicator]
Don't you try that
bad signal crap with me, Andrews.
I spent a fortune on this slip stream
so you could hear me loud and clear.
Show's over, time to come home.
- I'm onto something, something big.
- [Carlos] You're not onto something.
You're on something.
AI fragments? Time-travel?
A talking bomb?
- There's something else.
I've been digging around the remains
of Project Freelancer and I-
- [Carlos] And how in God's
name did you manage that?
- Well, I've been doing it literally.
and I pieced together a complete record
of their personnel files.
I got real names for
all the super soldiers.
- [Carlos] Okay. How many
have you interviewed?
- None.
Get this.
I checked the names against
the UNSC crime database,
and every single former agent
is either dead or missing.
Most of the disappearances happened
since the Reds and Blues
started their crime spree.
They have to be related.
- [Carlos] It ain't enough.
It's actually nothing.
You've been gone for weeks!
Show me something that the people
can look at with their eyeballs.
- You'll have visuals when I finish
tracking down the Reds and Blues.
- [Carlos] Oh no, no, no, no, no Dylan.
I'm putting an end to
this nonsense right now.
You get back to the office, pronto.
Or you're out of a job, period.
Capiche?
End of story.
- Oh, hey!
How's Uncle Carlos?
He seemed kinda peeved.
- Yeah, he's peeved.
Next time he calls you, please
just let it go to voicemail.
Don't transfer it to me, okay?
- Well I hate to kill my babies, but okay.
- What?
- My voicemail box is at capacity
with all my spec scripts.
I'll have to delete some to make room.
But I get it, filmmaking is
all about killing your babies.
- Stop saying that.
The expression is "you have
to kill your darlings".
Not your babies.
- Oh, I mean, I have to delete
all my ideas about babies.
My horror spec "Rabies
Babies", my time-travel comedy,
"Three Men and a Baby Hitler".
"My Look Who's Talking"
reboot about Helen Keller-
- Enough.
Goddamn it, Jax.
I can't even hear myself think
in this blizzard of idiocy.
Go take a hike.
- But I just want to help.
- You want to help?
Here's how you can help.
I need you to climb up that
really tall mountain, right now.
All the way up to the tippy top,
which is coincidentally
really far from me.
- Oh, but how does that help?
- Because I need you to
shoot establishing shots.
Wide shots that we can use
to set up the location at
the beginning of our story.
- Oh, I don't know.
That's usually grunt
work for the second unit.
I'll have to check with my union rep.
- Quit stalling.
Get.
- It looks dangerous.
Isn't this what CGI is for?
- CGI?
Is that what Hitchcock would say?
Or Carpenter?
(jarring tone)
Or Herzog?
- All right, all right, all right.
Let's leave the old gods out of this.
I'll do it.
- Better make it a time lapse.
- Oh yeah, Mom, I haven't
forgotten about you.
And Carlos, you sly bastard.
Best agent in the business,
ladies and gentlemen.
And of course, I have
to thank the academy.
Hello there.
(tense music)
Holy crap, they're here.
Dylan-
Jax to Dylan.
This is Dylan-
No Jax. Over.
(electronic tones)
- [Automated Voice] We are sorry.
The person you are trying to reach
has disabled communications.
Please try again at a later time.
- Crap!
What do I do?
Think!
- [Male Voice] Hey, somebody over there?
- Crap!
(tense music)
Miss Andrews, you turned off your radio.
- My AI assistant needed the channel.
I got something.
- Ooh, I got something too.
Let me go first.
- Not now, this is about
the Reds and Blues.
- Yes it is. So is mine!
- Can it, Jax.
whatever it is, I promise
it's not as important
as me looking at this computer screen.
- I have to point out this
type of scene is very cliche.
I talk, you ignore.
And meanwhile, we become surrounded.
- This is what I'm after.
It's about the Reds and Blues.
- Is it about how they've surrounded us?
- Damn, it's not them.
These are just dumb requests
from the Gulch prototype for
more toilet paper.
Another dead end.
- Say "We got company".
- What?
- Just say "we got company" hurry!
- Why?
- 'Cause that's how action scenes start.
(gunshot) (bullet ricochets)
- Get cover!
(dramatic music)
(gunshots)
It's the Reds and Blues.
They're here.
- I know, I've been trying to tell you!
I saw them land.
- Did you shoot them?
(gun shot)
- Hell no!
I abhor violence.
Except in my movies, TV shows, books,
video games, graphic novels-
- Did you shoot them with your cameras?
- Oh no, the light was terrible.
- The light?
You imbecile, we need footage.
- Well, Herzog wouldn't
have shot it either, okay?
- Shut up.
Start rolling.
- Speed.
- We can flee for our lives
after we get the shot.
I'm going to draw their-
What's wrong with your head?
Are you hit?
- Shakey cam.
You know, for action scenes.
Makes you look authentic.
- We are actually getting shot at.
- You're right.
This technique is way played out.
- I'm going to draw their fire.
You try and get a good
look at the shooters.
Ready?
(gunfire)
Did you get them?
- No, I tried to snap them,
but I missed my focus.
- You're going to get us killed.
- Well I could say the same to you.
(silence)
(footsteps crunching in snow)
- They're falling back.
- But why?
We're defenseless.
(thunder rumbles)
(lightning crackles)
Whoa, what is that?
- Thunder snow.
- Great name for a movie.
- This entire valley is about
to get a whole lot colder.
- I think I'm ready to
get back to the ship now.
- Not before we talk to them.
Come on.
- Oh, you're not being serious.
Let's make a deal.
Whichever one of us passes out,
gets stuffed in a tauntaun.
- Can it, this way.
(footsteps)
Dylan Andrews, Interstellar Daily.
Would any of you care to
comment on the string of attacks
you're all being held responsible for?
Supposedly, on behalf of Chorus?
- No.
- Shit just got real.
- That's not them.
That's not them.
- [Gruff Male Voice] Lavernius Tucker.
(dramatic music)
(thunder claps)
(lightning crackles)
- What is this?
- Look like our company's got company.
- Are you Lavernius Tucker?
- Stop following me, asshole.
(gunshot)
(multiple guns firing)
Who the hell is that?
- I have no idea.
- So we should get back to the ship?
- This way.
(dramatic music)
- Well, that's just great
Game over man, game over.
- [Gruff Male Voice]
Your attackers have fled.
It is now safe for you
to return to your ship.
- Who are you?
- I am no one.
Not to you.
I am only someone to those I seek.
And those I serve.
- Who do you seek?
- Lavernius Tucker.
Of the Reds and Blues
- That wasn't them.
- How do you know?
- Their weapons were
all wrong, for starters.
Sarge always uses a shotgun,
not whatever that was.
And Tucker's never held a sniper rifle
in any records I've found.
And his voice-
- The search continues.
- What do you want with them?
- I seek to serve.
- Who do you serve?
- Whoever I am told.
- Tell us your name.
- Goodbye.
- Weird name.
Hello, Goodbye.
You're leaving?
Why no, Goodbye, I just got here.
Why haven't you told me to zip it?
- Zip it.
This changes everything.
Kikina was right.
Those aren't the real Reds and Blues.
Someone's been impersonating them.
But why?
And who?
- I bet it's clones!
Or evil robot versions.
Or a transporter mishap?
- That means they're not
attacking the UNSC for Chorus.
They have some other agenda entirely.
Oh this is too good.
- So where are we going next, boss?
- We?
- Uh, yeah we, partner.
We.
- You missed a critical shot up there.
in my book, that's unforgivable.
- But I did push you out
of the way of a bullet.
- I have to concede,
that is technically true.
- Even Stevens?
- Let's see how Chorus goes.
- Chorus?
What's Chorus?
(ship whooshing)
- The last stop on our tour.
The planet of Chorus.
- Whoa.
Chorus sure has a lot of spaceships.
- Those don't belong to Chorus.
That's the UNSC First Fleet.
It's a blockade.
- Yeah, they don't look too friendly.
- No, they don't.
(ship whooshing)
(electricity crackling)
(foreboding music)
- What-
What are you doing?
No, no, no. Please no!
(gun fires)
(wings flutter)
(armor clatters)
(casing clinks)
- (whispered) Rosebud.
(piercing tone rings)
(male makes "Law and Order" sound)
- Just a few more inquiries, Ma'am
Did you attempt to witness
any other particular
individuals in the general vicinity
of the area in which the
crime scene was alleged?
(sighs)
- Jesus Christ.
What he means is, "Did you see anybody?"
- No, I just found him lying
there and called the police.
Is he okay?
Did they take him to general-
- We are asking the
questions if you so please.
Does the alleged victim have any enemies,
archenemies, nemesises,
or particular people of
an interesting nature,
to which the crime may
be motivated by whom?
- Uh, no.
(stammering) I don't know.
Who's the attending doctor?
- Just a few more
inquiries, if you so please,
to be of grateful assistance
to law enforcement investigators.
- Dude stop.
You don't even sound like a cop.
- Just doing my job, Bitters.
It's called going by the book.
- What book?
- "Law and Order".
(makes "Law and Order" sound)
(other cop groans)
- Gross
- "CSI: Miami" for life.
- He's going to be okay, right?
Can you please tell me
where they took him?
- Ahem. Do you profess
to have any knowledge
of the alleged victim's next of kin?
- Next of kin?
Is he dead?
- No, no, no.
He's not dead.
- The alleged victim was
booked with a bullet lodged
in his alleged posterior.
- He means his butt.
Dude got shot in the butt.
- Charlie, we're supposed to
be establishing a perimeter.
- I just want to be included.
- So he's fine?
- Should be.
But if you ask me,
something about this case
just doesn't sit quite right.
It all feels rather shaky.
(abrupt opera singing)
(cop makes "Law and Order" sound)
- I can see the headlines already.
"Journalist Assaulted on
Chorus, Peace Talks Abandoned".
- Dr. Grey, I was hoping
to speak with you-
- Off the record.
As you know, I'm not an
official representative
of Chorus, Ms. Andrews.
- You know me?
- I recognize you from your byline.
You wrote a fantastic piece
about the Steward Insurrection.
- That was almost 10 years ago.
- And now you're here.
Funny, the vultures usually
show up after the slaughter.
- I'm not here about the UNSC,
or whatever they're planning with Chorus.
I'm here about the Reds and Blues.
You've read about their
attacks in the press?
- Of course.
Those criminals have
caused substantial damage
to our planet.
- Well, what if I told you those criminals
are not the Reds and Blues you know?
- Oh, of course not, sweetheart.
When I said criminals,
I wasn't referring to
the Reds and the Blues.
I was referring to you.
- Beg pardon?
- You and the press.
By continuing to insinuate
that those criminals
are somehow our insurgents.
A baseless accusation the UNSC
was quick to overreact to.
But I'm sure invasions
make for great news day.
- I don't want an invasion.
I can help Chorus by finding
the real Reds and Blues.
But Kimball won't talk to me,
I can't get within a mile of her.
- The president refuses to be interviewed-
- Yes.
- So you shoot your camera man?
- What?
He was shot, but-
- The clotting present in
the patient's posterior
places the time of attack
approximately five minutes
after your call to the police.
That's some very fast
reporting, Ms. Andrews.
- I-
Look, I needed to talk to you.
Please help me get to Kimball.
- Oh.
I assumed you assaulted your camera man
to stir up cheap headlines.
But instead, you flatter me.
You're a little bit crazy, aren't you?
I like that.
- So you'll help?
- Nope.
President Kimball is fighting
to reopen peace talks
with the UNSC.
I will not burden her with this.
- Well, who's the UNSC's diplomat?
(exclaims)
- Are you going to shoot them, too?
- No more shooting.
I have connections at the network.
- Hmm.
Very well, the diplomat is Alfred Packard.
- Thank you.
- Don't thank me, just
keep me off the record.
- Not for the tip, for
fixing up my partner.
(laughs)
- If you think he'll still
be your partner after this,
then you really are crazy.
- I am prepared to deal
with the consequences.
- Consequences.
Don't always take the shape
we expect them to do they?
They're funny like that.
(exclaims)
I love this song.
(opera music continues)
(machines beep)
(sighs)
- Okay.
(electronic whirring)
- [Male Voice Over Communicator] Ahoy-hoy!
Interstellar Daily, James Adler speaking.
- Hi James.
- Dylan! You're alive.
Where are you?
I've been worried sick.
Are you okay?
Is everything okay?
- I'm still on the story.
- Carlos is going to be livid.
He's talking about criminal charges.
You need to get back here.
- I need a favor, James.
Between us, and no one else can know.
- That's why you're calling.
No "Hi honey, how are the cats?"
- I'm sorry. It's urgent.
- Are we still married?
- Can we please talk about that later?
- You left without a word.
What am I supposed to think?
- I don't know.
Everything is just a mess and
I needed some time to think.
And right now I really need that favor.
- You're killing me.
What is it?
(Dylan sighs)
- Alfred Packard, the UNSC
diplomat assigned to Chorus.
I need his full file from
the paper's database.
I think I recognize his name
from the Seremon leak last
year, so throw that in too?
- Got it.
I'll send you what I find.
- I promise we'll talk when I get back.
- Yeah, sure.
(electronic tones)
(desolate guitar playing)
(ship whooshes)
- President Kimball.
Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.
I have some questions.
- I'm sure you do.
But you're going to have to
answer mine first, Ms. Andrews.
How did you convince Packard
to reopen our peace talks?
- Packard's corrupt.
He's smart enough to pay
off the right people,
but not smart enough to know
you should never shortchange a hooker.
Especially given his interests.
I threatened an expose,
but he preferred to back off
his hard-line with you instead.
It's temporary.
- Understood, but the respite
has brought us hope, nonetheless.
- Your real hope is
with the Reds and Blues.
If they resurface and are proven innocent,
then Chorus is saved.
- You didn't come here to
advise me, Ms. Andrews.
You want something.
- I want them.
- Well, as I've said, time and time again,
I don't know where they are.
- With all due respect, I don't buy that.
- With all due respect, I don't care.
You want the Reds and Blues,
and I want to know why.
So you're going to explain
your intentions to me
before this conversation continues.
But believe me when I say
I'll know if you're lying.
- Fine
- What do you want with
the Reds and Blues?
- I went to talk to them.
- Why?
- To get the facts.
- That's not good enough.
Be specific.
- People are quick to jump to conclusions.
They see something or hear something
and fit it into a
preconceived emotional box.
"The Reds and Blues are terrorists."
It's up to people like me
to find the buried truth
and expose the real facts.
Because truth and fact are
the currency of the galaxy.
It's how wars are fought,
and invasions are justified,
and leaders are elected.
I want facts.
Facts are found at the source, with them.
That's one reason.
The other is that I don't think
their story is really over.
And I need to see how it ends.
If you won't help me, I
will find them anyway.
Of that, there is no question.
- Santa?
- Come again?
- Dylan Andrews'
intentions are as she says.
- Anything she's not
saying, I should know about?
- Nothing of note.
Would you like to know
what she's afraid of?
(chuckles)
- Another time.
- It's currently me.
- Alien AI construct.
Neat trick.
- And a very close friend.
I think we may have found our messenger.
- So it would seem.
- What's going on?
What messenger?
- We received something
meant for the Reds and Blues.
A message.
We can't trace its origin.
And we can't safely deliver it to them
with the UNSC hanging over our heads.
- Thus, we require a herald.
- So you do know where they are.
- The Reds and Blues saved us.
We owe them everything.
So when they told me they were done,
that they were finished with
all of this, that they just
wanted to be left alone,
I did my best to repay our debt.
Please don't make me regret
what I'm about to tell you.
- I won't.
(ship roaring)
You'll be able to hitch
a ride home from here.
When you get back, just
tell Carlos what happened.
You'll be compensated.
So that's it, you're firing me?
I can't come along?
- How can you say that?
I shot you?
- I know I can't wait to tell my friends.
Once I make friends.
So cool!
- So you're not upset?
- Oh, hell no!
That was some Kubrick level
dedication on your part.
Mad respect.
- If you're serious, you have to know.
We're rogue.
No budget, no backing, no
intern credit, no turning back.
- I'm in.
- You got grit, Jax.
I'll give you that.
- Yeah.
That, and as soon as I get
back, my student loans kick in.
- Hmm!
I guess he is as crazy as her, after all.
- Then they'll be in very good company.
(ship whooshing)
(victorious music)
(ship roars)
(tense music)
(music calms)
(thunder)
(music swells)
(exclaims)
(Shout fading)
(splat)
- Fuck.
(driving rock music)
(tranquil guitar)
- Hello?
Somebody? Anybody?
- [Male Voice] Move it, move it!
- Hey, slow down.
I need to get-
- No can do!
I'm late for battle!
- Was that Sarge?
(unintelligible)
and Simmons?
- Yo Grif!
What about the "Blue-Goo Dolls"?
- No!
"The Red Zeppelins".
- "The Blue Fighters"
- Uh, "The Grateful Red".
- Oh God, no!
Screw you.
- You're Grif.
Grif, can you help us?
(Grif laughs)
- Who the hell are you?
- Dylan Andrews. Interstellar-
- Whoa, hold up.
I just realized how much I don't care.
- The-
Captain Caboose, he fell off a cliff.
I think he's dead.
- Whoa!
You killed Caboose?
Good job!
Can you kill Sarge next?
Ooh, wait, no.
Donut, then Sarge.
(incoherent speech)
- [Donut] Anyone seen my tanning oil?
- Jesus Donut, we have guests!
Put some clothes on for Pete's sake.
- Oh-ho-ho, "Blue-tang Clan".
- "The Red Kennedy".
(yells unintelligibly)
(car crashes)
- Oh-ho!
Pyrotechnics!
- Damn, foiled again.
- Listen, everyone.
I have no idea what the
fuck you're all doing.
But you need to know your man,
Caboose, is terribly
injured and possibly dead.
- Oh no, not Caboose!
We need to go rescue him.
- You-
You're okay?
- Oh, pshh, yeah.
You know, I fell down and stuff.
But you know, I landed on my head.
And that's okay, 'cause that's the part
that's the most used to it.
So yeah, I'm fine.
Things are good, now.
Yeah, I'm gonna go lay down.
(guns clicking)
- Now would be a great time to
start explaining yourself, ma'am.
- You start with who you are
and what you're doing here.
- Washington and Carolina?
You're alive.
- Don't sound so surprised.
I believe Carolina asked
some questions, ma'am.
- Of course.
Dylan Andrews, Interstellar Daily.
I'm doing a story about
the attacks perpetrated
by the Reds and Blues since Chorus.
- Attacks?
- And the disappearances of
the ex-Freelancer agents,
as well.
- Which Freelancers are missing?
- All of them.
Look, I've been searching
for you for a very long time.
- Well, congratulations,
Ms. Andrews, you found us.
- Why don't we start with these attacks?
- No, we came halfway across the galaxy,
sacrificed our careers,
and risked both life and limb for answers.
So we start with my questions or we walk.
- What exactly do you wanna know?
- Simple, what have you all
been doing since Chorus?
(Grif groans)
- Lots of bullshit.
I don't even know where to start.
- Before or after the Temple?
If it's before, this is going
to get N-S-F-W real quick.
- Temple?
- Oh yeah!
After we captured Hargrove,
we partied fuckin' hard.
See, Chorus has this alien relic
called the Temple of Procreation,
that when activated makes-
- We said we wouldn't talk about that!
It was like a planet-wide aphrodisiac.
Things got real bohemian.
- Yeah. Ya'll keep saying that.
But everything felt normal to me.
- Surprising no one.
- Can we-
Can we change the subject?
- Oh, they're just upset cause
they got locked in a storage
closet during the whole thing.
- The subject.
Change it.
- To actually answer your question,
after the war on Chorus,
we decided we were due some time off.
- We'd earned some RNR,
even Carolina agreed.
- I thought I'd give the
simple life a day in court.
- No more adventures?
Hell yeah, I was on board.
- Kimball set us up on this isolated moon.
And she built us the most
awesome new bases ever.
- Everyone adjusted to the
peace and quiet different.
Some of us were naturals.
- Don't hate the player.
- Sarge got hopelessly depressed
after not dying heroically on Chorus.
- Hogwash! Baseless slander.
- But you said-
- I am hopelessly depressed after
not dying heroically on Chorus.
We need a new enemy, something to fight.
Where y'all goin'?
- Sarge wasn't the only
one who had a hard time
adjusting to inaction.
What?
- Fortunately we found a tutor.
- Help me Grif.
Help me be the best at being lazy.
- You're not ready, padawan.
- I can try.
- No, there is no try.
- The peaceful times didn't last too long.
Turns out this planet has
some native lifeforms.
(thundering crash)
(yelling)
- Run!
- I can't die as food!
Oh, the irony.
- While everyone debated if dying as food
was technically ironic,
Caboose went and made
friends with the dinosaurs.
- Because of course he did.
- [Caboose] Aw, who's a good boy?
Oh, you're a good boy!
- Caboose, get down!
- Tell 'em to fight me!
- And then Donut somehow managed
to burn down our bases.
(flames crackling)
- [Past Donut] Oopsy, Daisy.
- (laughing) A lie, a lie, a lie.
- I told you it was a simple mishap
with my vanilla satin scented candles.
Sheesh!
- Donut, clothes.
- Party pooper.
- Why is he naked?
- That's your first question?
- We lost 80% of our rations in the fire.
So fat-ass over here started going around
and eating native plants.
- Oh, hey there, sexy.
- Oh, and as it turns out,
the mushrooms are basically
crystal meth on crystal meth.
(rapid fire babbling)
- Yeah? Well, at least I didn't spend
my summer learning Esperanto.
- I thought Esperanto
was Spanish for Spanish.
- And now you're the
only one in the universe
who speaks a dead language.
How appropriate.
(sighs)
(speaks Esperanto)
- And Freckles got a new body.
He could use any bathroom he wants now.
(mechanical impacts)
(electronic whirs)
- Prepare to be exterminated.
(yells)
(body suit crashes)
(indiscernible)
- Right.
- That's right around when
we tried to raise some money
for new bases by selling
off our movie rights.
- Hollywood really screwed
the pooch on that one.
- Oh-ho, we were rich.
- And then we realized water parks
are way more awesome than bases.
- So we built the galaxy's
greatest water park.
- Yay!
- (unenthusiastically) Yay.
- And then Donut-
- [Past Donut] Oopsy, daisy.
- I mean, how do you burn
down a waterpark, Donut?
- One, lube isn't normally flammable.
And B, I didn't burn down
the whole water park.
Just the park part.
- And then we formed the best band ever!
- Tucker thought it might attract chicks.
- Which worked.
- The Talking Reds.
- Motley Blue.
- How about "Redmau5"?
- Hey, I heard you boys
are looking for a singer.
- Uh, yeah.
Chick singers are awesome.
- Can you sing, though?
- Can I sing?
- Carolina sings, so good.
- Thank you.
- Oh, and we're definitely
not just saying that because
she could kill us.
- (haltingly) So good.
- Sarge decided to make his own enemy.
So he built an evil robot
army to invade our valley.
- But the robots malfunctioned,
and attacked the dinosaurs.
(mechanical crashing)
- I have seen some amazing
things in my life, but this-
(booms and mechanical screeching)
This takes the cake.
- And then, Grif convinced Simmons
Game of Thrones really happened.
- Nuh-uh.
- Uh-huh.
- Okay-
Shut up.
- Seriously, dude.
- No, no. No way.
- Yeah. Way.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Dude.
- Yeah, dude.
- That's awesome!
Man I wanna go visit.
- Sarge found a new enemy.
One that would keep him busy
for the rest of our time here.
- For far too long our
people have been oppressed.
Crushed under the weight of ourselves.
If we don't start standing up
to our mortal foe, gravity,
by God, who will?
- Are we really going
to let this play out?
- Why not see where it goes?
- Buckle up, friend-o.
It's time we take this fight to the enemy!
(speaks Spanish)
(Sarge yells)
- But that just meant Blue Team
had one more Jeep than Red Team.
- Gentlemen, we simply
cannot let Blue Team
have tactical superiority over the canyon.
This is means war.
Red versus-
(speaks Spanish)
Blue!
- That helped us realize just how outdated
this whole Red Team, Blue
Team thing really is.
- So we had a meeting to debate
a new form of government.
- I vote anarchy.
(sighs)
- You can't vote anarchy, you dumb-ass.
- Monarchy.
Whoever holds the
magical sword, Excalibur.
(unintelligible nonsense)
- Military dictatorship.
- Matriarchy.
- Oh, how about malarkey?
- Caboose, that's not
a type of government.
It just means meaningless
talk and nonsense.
- Malarkey won.
- Oh, you haven't
mentioned the dark place.
- Oh yeah.
Somehow caboose got stuck
in another dimension.
- [Caboose From Alternate
Dimension] Hello?
Anyone here?
This is awesome!
- "Neat".
He just keeps saying neat.
- Oh and we found donut dead.
- Sweet.
- We decided to bury him in
a shallow unmarked grave.
- [Donut] Aw, Fiddlesticks.
I can't find my suit.
- Turns out he was just skinny dipping.
- [Donut] Guess I'm goin au naturale.
Nice and breezy.
(shouts)
- Run!
- The irony!
- But that wasn't even the
weirdest thing that happened.
Wash
grew
a beard.
- It's kinda
itchy.
- And then this morning, Grif spiked
Simmons' couscous with his meth mushrooms.
- You know, for the "LOL's.
(rapid shouting)
- [Donut] Anyone seen my tanning oil?
- Jesus Donut, we have guests.
Put some clothes on for Pete's sake.
- Oh-ho-ho, Blue-tang Clan.
- The Red Kennedy.
(yells unintelligibly)
- It's been awful.
Instead of a peaceful retirement,
it's been the same damn shit,
with the same damn idiots.
- You got all that, right?
- Yeah, definitely.
(electronic whirring)
- Well, it certainly sounds
like you've been busy.
Still, my records of
your actions on Chorus
end when you entered the staff of Charon.
I would love to know what happened next.
- That's-
(sighs)
a sensitive question.
We lost a friend that day.
- I miss Church.
- You mean the Epsilon AI.
- No, he means Church.
- He gave everything to save us.
It wasn't the first time either.
- It was so awesome for a while there.
He powered up my suit
and I was like Neo in the Goddamn Matrix.
I was juggling these two guns and a sword
and dodging bullets.
It was so fuckin' amazing.
And then it was all over and he was gone.
The suit was useless,
empty.
But, you know,
we won.
- I'm sorry.
- So that's our story.
What's yours?
- Like I said, outside,
while you've been here,
a group of people that look a lot like you
have been going around stealing,
hijacking and robbing the UNSC.
While looking into that,
I discovered that nearly
every former Freelancer
has vanished.
- That's alarming.
- That's an understatement.
- And to top it off,
most people think those
imposters are working for Chorus.
The UNSC is about ready
to invade as a result.
- Is that what Kimball sent you?
So that we can deal with them?
- Yeah, she should know we're retired.
- She actually sent me
to deliver a message.
She was pretty vague about it.
- Who's it from?
- She didn't say.
(electronic whirring)
(electricity crackling)
- (warbling and distorted) This is Church-
(warped speech)
If you're getting this, it's an emergency.
Send help, please.
Send help.
(warped signal fades)
- God fucking damn it.
- Come on.
What are y'all waiting for?
We're wasting time.
- Take it easy, Tucker.
We have to think about this.
- What is there to think about?
- Yeah, Church needs help.
- How is this even possible?
There was nothing left of
Epsilon after that last battle.
- You don't have to tell me that,
I have a pretty fucking vivid
memory of the whole thing.
Which is entirely why the hell
we need to get on this now.
We owe him one.
Several.
A million.
- He said "Alpha".
Could it be the original Church AI?
- Who fucking cares?
It's church, our friend.
Or my friend at least.
- Hey, Church means a lot to me, too.
More than I think you realize.
I'm not happy about the situation either,
but we have to be realistic.
Any successful operation
begins with intelligence.
- We've never needed intelligence before.
- It's a huge galaxy.
And we don't have a way
to trace that message.
- Well standing around and talking
ain't gonna accomplish shit.
That's all we ever do, and
we never get anything done.
- The other factor is that we have leads
on the Freelancer side of this.
Washington and I have some old
friends we can check up on.
- So you want to go on a
fucking Freelancer adventure
while Church is in trouble?
Give me a break!
- Going after church
means tracing that signal,
which is not something
we can do on our own.
For that, we're gonna need some help.
- Quick, tell me another idea.
- It's about a Russian
cosmonaut in the '60's
who crashed lands near
a Renaissance festival.
And he gets out of his capsule,
and sees all these knights and princesses,
and thinks he's gone back in time.
It's called "Cosmo Knight'.
- Hmm.
- Whoa.
Why the sudden interest?
I thought you hated my ideas.
- I do.
I do hate them.
But we need to look like we're
talking for a few seconds.
The Reds and Blues need
us to trace that message,
and we need them to
allow us to go with them.
I'd rather negotiate
that deal on our terms.
So let them come to us.
- Smart.
How 'bout another one?
- No, no more.
That last one is still lodged in my brain
like a stupidity bullet.
Why don't you go ahead
and check on the Red Team?
I'm curious about their take on all this.
- Okay.
(footsteps retreating)
- Stupid freaking dead Church.
Every time.
Nobody stays dead.
Why doesn't everybody die and stay dead?
- Oh cool, foreshadowing.
- Atten-hut!
Men, robots.
Donut.
Our terrible nightmare of peace
has finally come to an end.
To the east, storm clouds gather.
To the west, the dogs of war are a-
(howls) howlin'.
(howls)
Everybody, come on.
(howls)
- A-oo-ga!
(speaks Spanish)
- Come on, just do it.
Like a dog, howl.
(group making noises, howling)
(howling and talking)
Not barking.
Put your kibbles and bits in it.
Donut, quit wagging your tail.
(all three howling in unison)
Our enemy is nigh.
We must stand and fight.
Our very lives and our very livelihoods
are at stake.
We must fight back against these Whites.
- Whoa-ho-ho
- I knew the day might
come when the White Team,
once again raised it's plaintive face
at our war friendly valley.
They've done it before.
The Meta Agent Wyoming.
And now the Whites are
back to take it all.
- Um, Sarge.
You're bordering on a
really offensive territory.
- Borders?
Ha! Whites don't care about borders!
They go where they want.
Take what they want, and
leave nothing in their wake,
but indie rock and smoothie shops.
(exclaims in disgust)
- But Sarge, I'm reddish white.
- That's why you're our
ace in the hole, Donut.
You are the only one who
can walk between worlds.
You'll be our White spy.
(speaks Spanish)
You must act White, Donut.
Ski, take up golf.
Spend way too much time
trimming your lawn.
- I'm one step ahead of you, already.
- And don't forget to pop your collar.
- Sarge, I'm not sure.
As your second in command,
I have to question the long-term strategy
of this particular course of action.
- Dudes, I know this sounds crazy.
But either I'm right,
or I'm just an old man
who's lost his marbles
because he can't adjust
to life outside the
military chain of command.
And continues to end increasingly absurd
things to declare war on
as a subconscious way of
avoiding the sad truth
that he no longer really knows who he is.
Anyway, where was I?
Right, The race war.
(speaks Spanish)
That's a good point, Lopez.
Where is Grif?
- Yeah, I haven't seen
him since the meeting.
- I know what's happening.
He's been captured by the Whites.
This means war.
- So in exchange for helping us,
you want what, Exactly?
- Not much.
Interviews, access and the exclusive.
- I don't buy it.
How are you going to trace the message?
- I won't be.
I have an AI assistant.
He hasn't let me down yet.
- AI?
Where the hell did you get it?
- Those details aren't a part of the deal.
It's a trusted source.
- We need to know if we can trust you.
Smart AI or dumb AI?
- He's dumb.
Very dumb.
- I still don't like the idea
of civilians tagging along.
- I reported from the front
lines on the Great War,
I can handle myself.
- And your camera man?
- He's-
- I've seen things you
people wouldn't believe.
Attack ships on fire, off
the shoulder of Orion.
"Blade Runner".
- And I thought we'd
already reached peak moron.
- Don't make deals with the Whites!
Their blankets are covered in small pox.
- I stand corrected.
(skis scraping against ground)
- Who wants a poison pumpkin frappuccino?
- I'm just going to shut up, now.
- Back off missy.
We know you have Grif.
Give him back or I started shooting.
- I-
We haven't seen him.
- They've been with us
the whole time, Sarge.
She hasn't touched Grif.
- We're all on the same team now.
Got it?
- Red, White, and Blue working together?
How absolutely un-American.
(sighs)
- Great. Now we've got to find Grif.
We don't have time for this.
- I agree.
Let's pack up and prepare to move out.
I'm sure he'll turn up.
- I'll check the pantry.
(footfalls on the grass)
- Uh, Ms. Andrews-
- You saw him go in?
- Uh-huh.
Just like Gollum.
He was all muttery and crawley.
- You stay here.
I'll see if I can talk
the cat out of the tree.
- You don't want me to film?
- I doubt he'll talk to me,
but I know he won't talk to us.
You stay.
Grif?
Grif?
- Go away.
- I just want to talk.
- Well, I don't want to
talk to you or anyone.
So make like a tree and fuck off.
- I see you're upset.
Can we talk about why?
- You, that's why.
You show up here, you drop the bomb on us.
And then everyone goes
springing into action.
We are supposed to be done.
I don't wanna go on another adventure.
I don't wanna listen to Sarge.
I don't wanna get shot at,
I don't want to shoot at other people.
I want to chill.
I want to sit and chill.
- And leave church to his fate?
- Fuck Church!
I spent half my life
dealing with his shit.
His ex-girlfriends,
his daddy issues,
his resurrections.
Why can't he just stay dead?
- I've spent a lot of
time looking at logs,
reading transcripts,
talking to eye witnesses.
They all say the same thing about Grif.
He's the lazy one.
The one who doesn't care.
- Nailed it.
- Your actions tell a different story.
The story of someone who
always answers the call.
Who always helps his friends and fights
for the greater good.
I mean, I saw you give Sarge
CPR in the Blood Gulch logs.
You saved his life.
I think your sister is right about you.
You care about your friends.
- (screaming) You don't know
the first day about me, lady!
I hate Simmons!
I hate Sarge!
I hate everybody!
Print that in your fuckin' paper.
(footsteps on gravel)
- Are you sure you're
ready to lead a team again?
- Dude, look who you're talking to.
This is not my first rodeo.
- You've come a long way,
but don't get too big a head now.
- Yeah, you're right.
I just led it bunch of
soldiers into battle,
saved a planet, and whooped wholesale ass
against trained mercenaries
and space pirates, NBD.
- Smart ass.
- Buzzkill.
- Be careful out there.
- Yeah, yeah.
Okay, Dad.
- We're splitting up.
Attacking this situation from both flanks.
Carolina and I will be
dropping in on a few
fellow Freelancer alumni
to see what we can learn.
The rest of you. with
the help of the press,
will locate the source
of Church's message.
Enough words, wheels up in 10.
And remember-
Oh!
Look who's finally graced
us with his presence.
- Where have you been soldier?
- Thinking.
- Yeah, Right!
- Thinking about food.
- No, actually I was thinking that I quit.
- Quit What?
- You.
All of you.
I quit.
I'm not going, I'm staying here.
- What?
You can't quit.
That's not allowed.
- I can't do whatever I want.
I'm not in the military anymore.
I should have quit years ago.
- What about Church?
- Let it go, Caboose.
All of you.
He's been resurrected
more times than Jean Gray.
It's getting old.
- Seriously, dude?
You've always been selfish,
but this is bullshit.
- I don't like you.
Any of you.
But we've all known each other long enough
that you should hear from me first.
I'm done.
- He-
He can't do that.
Someone do something!
- Grif, desertion is punishable by death.
So keep going.
Desertion means leaving the military,
not eating dessert.
Seriously Grif, turn around.
(somber guitar music)
- You know, I liked them
better when they were funny.
- Yeah.
I hope we didn't fuck something up.
- They say a chain is only as
strong as its weakest link.
Grif wants to quit?
Good riddance.
I'm sick of carrying his fat ass anyway.
Honestly, we could probably lose
a few others while we're at it.
Donut, for starts.
Simmons, Sarge, Lopez
Red Team.
We're just being honest, right?
I'm team leader.
I'm the one who matters.
- (calling) We found it.
- Simmons, don't interrupt.
- I wasn't talking to you, Tucker.
We found it, Ms. Dylan.
Another relay.
- On our way.
- Are you sure you got all that?
I could do it again.
I'm always down for another round.
Bow-chicka-bow-wow.
- Nope, we got it.
Enough takes, thanks.
(beep)
(beep)
Yeah, this is it.
- It's just like the others?
- More or less.
I understand what it does,
but not how it does it.
This and the other relay beacons,
obviously have been bouncing
Church's signal around
until it was picked up by Chorus.
But these components, I
can't even tell what this is.
- It's a Bop It.
- A what?
- A Bop It.
It's some dumb kid's toy.
Caboose has one.
- Uh, had one.
Yep, he was my friend.
But I bopped him against a
rock and now he's sleeping.
In tiny pieces.
- Someone is building
experimental technology
out of kids' toys?
- Can you still do your
trace thing with your AI?
- Yeah, same as before.
It'll take some time,
but I should be able to
retrace the signal back a step.
- And in the meantime?
- we take a look around for other clues.
- Or this place is pretty spooky.
I think it would make a great
location for a horror movie.
I got this one idea
about a really fat zombie
called "Dead Weight".
(laughs)
- Grif, you are perfect-
Oh, right.
- Quiet, there's something out there.
- Is it Church?
- No, something in the shadows.
Something evil.
- Don't want to scare Caboose, Sarge.
Everybody, Church may have
left some clues behind.
So while we wait for Dylan's
AI to trace a signal,
we're going to take a look around.
- About that.
I've been crunching some
numbers and by my estimation,
it's gonna take approximately 17 days
to search this entire urban area.
- So we split up and cover more ground.
- Hey, you already know your lines.
Now you say-
- Doomed!
You're all doomed.
This city
(spookily) is haunted.
- What?
- Don't even listen to him, Caboose.
He's just paranoid from not sleeping.
- Ungrateful-
Sarge has been freaking out
about you and Jax killing us in our sleep.
So he's been staying up
for days and days on watch.
I think he's starting to lose it.
What is this, Tucker?
Day-?
- It's day five.
- Sleep means death.
- Meh, weak premise.
- Let's keep it together guys.
We split up, we look for clues.
That's the plan.
(stammering)
- What if we just stick together?
Or wait in the ship.
Isn't that, like, way better?
- Yeah, I think I'm with Caboose.
This place has bad juju.
- What are you worried about, Simmons?
The virgin always lives in horror movies.
- [Santa Whispering] Lavernius Tucker.
- Knock it off, assholes.
You're not scaring me.
(creepy, tense music)
(water dripping)
- Man, this sucks.
Yoo-hoo!
Hello?
Anybody there?
(dramatic music)
(Sarge muttering to himself)
(shouts)
- Freeze!
Oh!
(laughs)
As you were, good lookin'.
(chuckles)
(music swells dramatically)
- [Voice Whispering] Simmons.
Hello?
- [Voice Whispering] Simmons.
Who's there?
- [Voice Whispers] Simmons.
Who's there?!
(disembodied whisper)
(music swells dramatically)
- It's me.
(screams)
- Oh God, Caboose!
You scared the crap out of me.
- Sorry!
I tried to whisper to you,
but you didn't turn around.
(incoherent babbling)
- Okay, calm down.
Calm down, Caboose.
What are you doing here?
- Uh, I know Tucker
said we should split up,
but I was thinking maybe we
split up together, you know.
Because it's scary.
- Yeah.
(stammering) okay.
- What was this place?
- It was a human settlement
before the alien war.
Horrible massacre, no survivors.
- That must've made so many ghosts.
- Well scientifically speaking,
there's no such thing as ghosts.
(Donut stammers)
- But what happens to you when you die?
- We just don't know.
Probably nothing.
Grif would say it's just one
of life's great mysteries.
- You talk about Grif a lot.
- Shut up, no I don't.
- What you said makes no sense.
If people don't turn
into ghost when they die,
then how do they come back?
- You-
You don't.
- Maybe no one cared about these people.
So that's why they haven't come back.
- I don't think caring is
part of it at all, Caboose.
- Well, Simmons, here's what I've learned.
I care about Church and
he comes back every time.
That's how it works, then.
- I don't know, Caboose.
That's an interesting theory,
but I wouldn't put too much weight on it.
Most times when you die, you die.
It doesn't matter how
much someone likes you,
or how little, or how not at all.
You know?
Even after being friends
for years and years-
- You thinkin' 'bout Grif?
- No!
I'm thinking about how
what you said is wrong.
Scientifically speaking.
- Here's your science, Simmons.
Dead friend, plus love, equals Church.
- That's math, I guess.
- All right, so wait.
If you're not scared of ghosts,
what are you so scared of?
- Nothing.
And snakes.
- Snakes?
- Let me break it down for you, Caboose.
This is a big city.
So many places for snakes to hide.
They could be everywhere, all around us.
Watching us.
Licking their snake lips.
- Snakes.
- What, where?!
(tense music)
- Huh?
Who's there?
(tense music)
(gravel crumbling)
- Stop it!
(warped droning)
(suits crash)
- Tucker to Dylan, over.
- Find anything?
- Yeah, your camera man
just tried to spook me.
- Is he still alive?
- Groovy.
- Unfortunately, yes.
How's everything on your end?
- My AI just finished up it's search.
We were successful in tracing
the signal back a step.
We have the next location.
A desert planet called Armada Eight.
- Sounds like a shitty motel.
Okay, I'm calling off the search.
Let's all just meet up with
the ship and get outta here.
(communicator warbling)
- [Caboose Shouting Over
Communicator] Who are you?
He's killing me!
- Caboose, what's going on?
- [Caboose Shouting Over
Communicator] He's Dead!
- Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.
(dramatic jarring music)
(woman screams)
- You're Lavernius Tucker.
(thunder crashes)
- What did you do?
- Oh, look.
It's that guy.
- I'm going to kill
you, you son of a bitch.
- Lavernius Tucker.
- That's going to be the last
fuckin' name you ever say!
(electricity crackling)
Now come get some!
- No violence.
I am not here to fight.
- You should've thought of that
before you hurt my friends!
- I did not touch them.
- Yeah, right.
You expect me to believe you
just found them like this?
- Yes, that is as it happened.
That one I found sleeping here.
(Sarge muttering in his sleep)
Then that one saw a
small snake and fainted.
(snake hiss and rattling sound)
Then that one, I believe is playing dead.
- Is the bad man gone yet?
- I did not come here to hurt anyone.
I only came to serve.
- Who do you serve?
- I serve Lavernius Tucker.
Are you he?
- Oh, did Chorus send you?
- Yes.
(laughs)
- Awesome!
I saved their planet, so
they sent me a servant.
This is the best!
My own personal bad-ass
bodyguard, man servant.
- So you are Tucker?
- Fuck yes, I am.
(dark music)
(file flops on ground)
- You've been served.
- What the Fuck?
- Child support payments.
- Uh, no, dude.
Junior's got a basketball scholarship.
Who's the damn mom?
- It's a class action lawsuit.
- Shit.
- From a collection of
new mothers on Chorus.
They are demanding recompense for the sons
and daughters sired before you fled.
- The Temple?
Oh no, the Temple.
Why did I do it?
It was so good.
I didn't mean to.
I meant to.
I want to.
I didn't mean to.
- Intention is no matter.
only consequence has true form.
- That is not how I saw this going.
- So that's it?
He just gives him the
paper and walks away?
No fight scene?
No car chase?
No gun battle?
No jump kicks?
Lame.
- No, no!
- Fare thee well, to you all.
You will nay see me again.
Unless in service of the court.
My name is Spencer Porkensenson,
and I live to serve.
(suit thrusters fire)
- Noooooooooo!
(shout echoes)
(victorious music)
- [Santa] And I live to serve.
- So constructive feedback.
I'm thinkin' about pitching
this to some networks
when we get back.
- How did you get them
to sign a release form?
- A what, now?
- [Voice Over Intercom] Now
everybody's strapped in?
Ready for liftoff?
(groans)
- Who cares?
We're wasting your freaking time.
Grif was right.
We're never going to find
anything on this stupid trip.
(ship thrusters roaring)
(radio tuning)
- Sarge to HQ.
Sarge to HQ.
- [HQ Over Radio] HQ here. Status?
Sensors pulled through.
It's them, all right.
Tangos are Oscar Mike.
- [HQ Over Radio] Copy.
Get back here on the double.
I wouldn't want you
missing out on the party.
Temple out.
(intense orchestral music)
(phasing electronic music)
(driving rock music)
♪ We came to this planet ♪
♪ For some peace and quiet ♪
♪ No more mercenaries, villains ♪
♪ Or nefarious space pirates ♪
(music builds)
♪Oh no ♪
♪ What's that ♪
♪ Over there ♪
♪ In the field ♪
♪ It's a beast ♪
♪ Really tall ♪
♪ Sharp teeth ♪
♪ Long claws ♪
♪ Turns out somehow ♪
♪ The beast could be controlled ♪
♪ Caboose taught the dinosaurs
how to rock and roll ♪
(laughter)
Caboose drum solo!
(driving drum solo)
(electric guitar)
(slow ballad-like music)
♪ Roses are red and violets are blue ♪
♪ One day we'll cruise
down the Gulch avenue ♪
♪ It's Red versus Red ♪
♪ And Blue versus Blue ♪
♪ Its I against I ♪
♪ And me against you ♪
♪ Violets are blue ♪
♪ Roses are red ♪
♪ Livin' like this ♪
♪ We were already dead ♪