Epsilon looks around and sees that he is still in the storeroom, but everything is black, gray, and white.

Epsilon: What happened? Where am I?

F.I.L.S.S.: Safety Protocols were initiated, please remain calm.

Epsilon: Sheila, is that you?

F.I.L.S.S.: Yes.

Epsilon: What is this place?

F.I.L.S.S.: Your operator has been injured or incapacitated, and you are now in Recovery Mode. You will remain in this state until such time as you can be extracted by a Recovery Agent, or your operator regains consciousness.

Epsilon: Wait! You didn't send a Recovery Beacon did you!? Because that would be really -

Slade: (voiceover) Oi, Church! Can you hear me in there?

Epsilon: Slade? Is that you?

Slade: (sarcastically) No, this is your conscience. We haven't spoken a lot lately because of your being a loud-mouthed prick!

Epsilon: Shut up! Will you just hurry up and get us all out of this!

Slade: (voiceover) I'll get everyone ELSE out, I think you need to be left like this to learn some manners!

Epsilon: Man, you are so full of- (sighs) Could you PLEASE let me out?

Slade: (voiceover) 'Atta way, mate. Delta and Theta are working with F.I- I mean, Sheila, to lower the lockdown.

Epsilon: Yeah, yeah, I got it. (sees a black figure several yards away) Is that Tex?

F.I.L.S.S.: Affirmative. Technically, she is not present in this environment, but if you would like to speak to her I can relay communication through external channel.

Epsilon: Yes, please.

F.I.L.S.S.: I am sorry, but she has refused the connection. She should not be able to do that.

Epsilon: Yeah, that's not surprising. Can you force it through?

F.I.L.S.S.: I can try, but I would not recommend that action.

Epsilon: Because it might damage her?

F.I.L.S.S.: No, I just have learned that when a woman wants to be alone, it is best to leave her alone.

Epsilon: Yeah, good call. Hey, help Slade to get me out of this but, uh, leave her in here until I figure out what to do with her.

F.I.L.S.S.: Suit your self.

Tex turns her head in Epsilon's direction.

Epsilon: Uhh, she didn't hear that did she?

F.I.L.S.S.: Unclear.

Epsilon: I thought you weren't relaying my messages!

F.I.L.S.S.: Recovery Mode disabled.

Epsilon: You women always stick together. Oh man, I hope she didn't hear that.

Slade: (voiceover) Chances are likely, mate!

Epsilon: SHUT UP!

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

Back at the desert, Wash and Doc stand outside the entrance to the structure the Meta had previously entered.

Washington: Are you going in or not?

Doc: Oh, do I have a choice? Then not, I'm gonna go with that one.

Washington: Meta, get out here!

The Meta growls again, echoing inside the structure.

Doc: Yeah, definitely gonna stick with not. That seems like the best one of those two choices that you gave me.

Washington: Get in there.

Doc: Tell you what, put me back in the wall, I like the wall. It was cozy and it protected me. I miss my wall...

Washington: You are utterly useless. I know we brought you along for a reason, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it is.

Doc: The important thing is we're becoming friends. They say the bonds of men in combat are as strong as brotherhood!

Washington: Meta get out here... please...

Doc: Voice sounds tense. Maybe you should give him a back rub. That wouldn't be weird, right? One Freelancer giving another a back rub?

Washington: Aren't you trained in stress management or something? Calm him down!

Doc: That only works if the person wants to be calm. I don't think he qualifies.

Washington: Listen, Meta, whatever you found, we can deal with it, I promise. Just come out here and show me what it is.

The Meta throws something at Washington and Doc.

Washington: WOAH!

Doc: Funky butt-lovin'-!

Washington and Doc stare at the Epsilon module.

Washington: Oh. You found... that.

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

Back at the facility, Slade yanks Tucker to his feet.

Tucker: Oh oh god, that sucked! What was all that glowing shit?

Epsilon: Sheila put us in lock-down to save us.

Tucker: She knocked us out to help us? That makes sense.

Slade: Will you quit your whinin'? At least we ain't getting our arses handed to us.

Tucker: Yeah, that's a good point. Can't argue with results.

They walk over to the Reds.

Epsilon: Sheila, can they, ahh... can they hear me?

F.I.L.S.S.: Affirmative.

Caboose: SHE SAID YES!

Kan: (puts hands over his ears) Ergh, how did he get control of the speakers?

Tucker: We heard her dipshit!

Caboose: I KNOW! I JUST WANT TO USE THE MICROPHONE! IT MAKES ME SOUND SUPER LOUD! I'M NOT SURE YOU CAN TELL!

Tucker: Hey, where'd you get the new body?

Epsilon: Long story dude, I'll tell you later.

Tucker: Man, I know I asked but I really don't give a shit, Church.

Caboose: ATTENTION FREELANCER SHOPPERS! WE HAVE A SPECIAL ON SUBMACHINE GUNS IN AISLE SEVEN!

Slade takes out one of his pistols and shoots the speaker.

Caboose: Aww man...

Meanwhile, the Reds look around as they are in Recovery Mode.

Simmons: Sarge, where are we?

Sarge: Men, I have bad news for all of us - we're dead. Which in the case of Grif is good news for me. But still, bad news overall.

Simmons: Dead?! I can't be dead! I still have so much to do!

Grif: Uh? Like what?

Simmons: Like... everything that doesn't involve a computer...man, it's been a real one-track life for me.

Grif: So this is the after-life, huh? Not bad, it's kind of grainy. Overall, I can't complain.

Sarge: This is just the stage before we move on, like purgatory.

Simmons: Ooo, or like the last episode of Lost.

Sarge: Hey! I haven't seen that yet! No Spoilers!

Simmons: That show was on hundreds of years ago!

Sarge: La, la, la-la, don't say anything else!

Simmons: Give me a break!

Grif: Well, I'm going to sleep. See you losers in 14 hours.

Sarge: Grif, no napping!

Grif: Sorry Sarge, but you always said I can sleep when I was dead. Hey, guess what? I am dead. So this purgatory is about to become purga-snory. Yawn...

Sarge: Grif!

Epsilon: (voiceover) Hey Reds! Can you hear me?

Sarge: Who in Sam Heaven is that?

Simmons: Is that God?

Grif: Hey Almighty, can it! Some of us are trying to get a little shut eye.

Sarge: No blasphemy!

Simmons: What do you want God? Take Grif, he's been terrible! I mean great!

Tucker: (voiceover) It's not God dude, its Church. He just thinks he's God.

Back in the real world, Kan waves his hand in front of Simmons.

Kan: It's astonishing how they can hear us yet they cannot see us.

Tucker: Pfft, this is just what you need, more people worshipping you.

Slade: I think we've dealt with enough cultist-worshipping shit to last a lifetime.

Epsilon: Yeah, hey listen, we want to let you out, but we don't want you to attack us or attack Tex, OK?

Simmons: Attack Tex? She attacked us!

Grif: Fuck you guys!

Sarge: I would never hit a girl!

Slade: Doesn't seem like you can touch a girl in ANY way, Sarge.

Epsilon: Just agree and we'll let you out.

Simmons: Grr, fine...

Grif: Whatever...

Sarge: Grk duh mrm jerk gurrgle...

Epsilon: I'm gonna assume that last one was a yes. Alright, let 'em out Sheila!

F.I.L.S.S.: Affirmative. Ending Recovery Mode, red units.

Sarge: Ahh! My neck was killing me!

Slade: (mutters) Not as much as the pain in mine having to deal with you lot.