Inside the med-bay, South opens her eyes and sees Theta and Kan standing over her. She groans slightly and sits up. 

Kan: Easy, South. You've been out for several hours. 

South: Definitely feels like I have. 

Theta: Do you feel better? 

South pulls the IV tube off her arm and stands up without any hesitation. 

South: Pain's finally gone. Where's Cal? 

Kan: He left with Agent Texas and Church to find the Director. 

South: The Director?! Why didn't you stop him?! 

Kan: He ordered me stay and make sure you fully recovered. Now that you have, let us- 

The three then begin to hear an alarm as the room blinks red on and off. 

F.I.L.S.S.: Alarm. Incoming recovery beacon. Level Zero. Alarm. Incoming recovery beacon.

Theta: Uh oh. 

Kan: Come. Let us acquire our weaponry! 

In the control room, Caboose is standing in front of F.I.L.S.S.. 

F.I.L.S.S: Alarm. Incoming recovery beacon. Level Zero. Alarm. Incoming recovery beacon.

Caboose: Oh no!

F.I.L.S.S: Level Zero.

Caboose rushes out of the room. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Near the ice base, Doc drives Wash and the Meta across a snowy field which is perfectly serene except for Epsilon's motionless body.

Washington: There he is. Something doesn't seem right here. Stop the car.

Doc: Stop?

Washington: I don't like this. How did he get hurt, why isn't anyone helping him?

The Meta snarls to Wash. 

Washington: You're right, this is a trap. Those walls there, perfect for a sniper. We walk in to where he's hurt and suddenly, we're boxed in, nowhere to go.

Doc: You think the Reds are tryin' to ambush us?

Washington: The Reds? Hahaha! No. This is an actual military tactic. We drilled it all the time in training. No, whoever set this up is a Freelancer.

Doc: Yeah, but if a Freelancer set this up, wouldn't they know that you guys were Freelancers, and that you would recognize this as soon as you saw it?

Washington: What? No, you're overthinking it. That's just-

10 landmines begin to light up in a perfect circle around them.

Washington: Oh, son of a bitch.

Doc: (sigh) Told you so.

The Warthog then explodes. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Back at the other facility, Caboose rushes up to the Reds. 

Caboose: Sargeant! Sargeant!

Sarge: What do you want, Blue?

Caboose: I need your help.

Simmons: Our help?

Caboose: Yes, Church is hurt, they must have gotten to him, Slade, and Tex.

Grif: They got Tex? Good, that just means she won't be able to beat the hell out of us any more.

Caboose: No, we have to rescue them.

Grif: Rescue them, are you nuts? No one told them to leave, they're on their own.

Caboose: But they'll die! Sargeant please.

Grif: Uh, hey dude, I don't know if you've picked up on this yet, but if you wanna convince Sarge to do anything, I don't think the best argument is "The Blues might die if we don't."

Sarge: Cowboy up Caboose, I'm comin' with you.

Grif: What?

Sarge: I said I'm helping him.

Grif: Who, the blue guy? Why on Earth would you ever help a Blue for no reason?

Sarge: We need some weapons. How'd your equipment test go, Simmons?

Simmons: About as well as you would expect.

Sarge: Heuh, that's too bad.

Grif: Well I'm not going, and you can't make me. You quit, remember? I don't take orders from you any more, and besides, this whole command structure thing was bullshit anyway. We all know that now.

Sarge: I'm not tellin' you to go. I'm not even askin'.

Grif: You're not?

Sarge: Nope. I'm goin'. That's it. You wanna come, come on. But I don't expect you to. Simmons will probably tell you that statistically, some of us will probably die.

Simmons: All of us.

Sarge: All of us will probably die. But that's not what's important. Let me ask you two a question: You ever wonder why we're here?

Grif and Simmons look at each other before back at Sarge. 

Grif: Um, it does seem to be one of life's great mysteries.

Sarge: No, I mean you! What are you doing here? You always act like you wanna quit, but hell, you could've left whenever you wanted. No one would have stopped ya. So why are you here? And you, Simmons.

Simmons: Me?

Sarge: You say you wanna be in charge. They would have given you your own squad a dozen times over. You know it, and I know it. But you're still, here. And you Tucker. As much as I hate to admit it, you're actually good at being a soldier.

Tucker: I am?

Sarge: I know you like to make your rude comments, pretend like it all doesn't matter. But an entire alien race chose you to be their hero! So why are you here? And Caboose... Uuhhh, it's good to see you.

Caboose: Thanks. I'm really enjoying the speech so far.

Sarge: Maybe you're all here because this is the only place you fit in. Maybe you're here because you don't have anywhere else to go. Maybe you're all here, because deep down, you want to be here. The reason doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here! For all we know, Tex and Church are dead. That means we're the only ones who know what's happened; the only ones who can prevent them from covering it up. So the way I figure it, these Freelancer guys, wanna use us, take us away from our families, and send us all over the dag gum galaxy just to test if their agents are ready for the big fight? Well, I guess I'm interested in showing 'em, exactly what a big fight is all about. Time to clean the slate. So I'm not ordering you to go. I ain't even askin'. You do, what you gotta do, Private Grif.

Grif: (sighs) I'll go get my car keys.

Sarge: Ah, alright then. Let's move.

South: Not without us. 

The Reds and Blues turn and see South and Kan stocked up and armored. 

Kan: Though I do not believe a Warthog will be fast enough. 

Simmons: Yeah, Kan's right. I don't think a jeep will get us there soon enough. But I think I know what we can use.

They all walk into a large room. 

Simmons: This!

Grif: Who the hell is gonna drive that?

Everyone stares at Grif.

Grif: Why is everyone looking at me?