Up on a hill overlooking Command, Slade, Carolina, Kan, and Wash are crouched down. Carolina is holding a sniper rifle.

Carolina: Okay, there's two possibilities. One: we take the south entrance with two guards, but they have automated turrets backing them up.

Wash: And the second?

Carolina: The northwest entrance has four guards with shotguns. They'd be easier to take down but if one blast goes off, the whole base will probably be alerted.

Kan: I can cloak. I can take down all four guards without being spotted.

Carolina: (to Slade) Tell your pet to put a lid on it.

Kan growls but Slade holds his arm out, keeping him back.

Slade: How about YOU quit being a bitch for five minutes? If that's even possible for you...

Carolina immediately whips around to pull out her pistol but Kan grabs her wrist and twists it before grabbing her throat.

Slade: Maybe that'll show you not underestimate a Sangheili warrior.

Wash: Will you guys knock it off?! Fighting against each other isn't gonna help get Epsilon and Rho out.

Slade: (sighs) Fair point, mate. Kan, let her go.

Kan doesn't comply and just huffs at Carolina fogging her visor.

Slade: (insistent) Kan! Put. Her. Down.

Kan looks at Slade for a moment before nodding and looking back at the cyan Freelancer in his grasp.

Kan: (squints eyes) Watch yourself, she-male.

Kan sets her down and pushes her back. Carolina growls, rubbing her throat.

Slade: Okay, (looks at Carolina) now that some of us have controlled our temper, here's the plan: Wash, you take Sarge, Kan, and Caboose with you and Carolina and I'll stay here to take out the two turrets at the south entrance with the sniper rifle. That way you can take out the guards.

Carolina: Who said-

Slade: Will you stop being Miss "I'm-in-Charge" and start being a Freelancer! This is exactly why the Project broke apart in the first place! You constantly having your head up that gigantic ego-filled ass of yours! Now stop bitching and go get the guys!

Wash nods and pats Kan as they both leave. Carolina stared at Slade for several intense seconds before shoving the sniper rifle in his hands and shouldering past him.

Slade: I'm hating her more and more by the minute.

Tex: (in Slade's mind) You're telling me! God she's become even more unbearable than back in the Project!

Theta: (in Slade's mind) Y-Yeah. She's even more scary than the Meta!

Delta: (in Slade's mind) Carolina's anger towards California intensifies whenever he strategizes or is being the logical one of the group. It is probable that she believes California is "stealing the spotlight" as she once believed towards you, Agent Texas.

Tex: (in Slade's mind) Yeah, well in her mind, that stupid competition with me is still going on.

Slade: (lays on his stomach and props the sniper rifle) And now, she feels she has two competitors. Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo.

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

In the Epsilon Unit at Red Base, an extremely large ramp is pointing towards the wall.

Sarge: Excellent work, men! At this rate, we'll see what's on the other side of that wall in no time.

Simmons: Uhh, sir, you know I would normally never question your judgement.

Sarge: Great! lets keep it that way. Now the plan is simple, on harnessing the momentous power of inertia, we can increase the speed of the Warthog and blast straight through to the other side.

Lopez: [That's not inertia.]

Sarge: He he he. Thanks Lopez.

Lopez: [This ramp was a tremendous waste of resources. And time.]

Simmons: I don't know, Sarge, driving a car through a solid metal wall a little... implausible.

At the top of the ramp, Grif in the Warthog.

Grif: IT'S FRIGGING IMPOSSIBLE!

Sarge: Don't you worry, Private Grif. We've taken extra special precautions to make sure nothing goes wrong, and no one gets hurt. Or to be more specific, there's very few things go wrong and one person gets hurt.

Grif: Why won't my seat belt unlock?!

Sarge: Extra special precautions! (to Simmons and Lopez) Alright, let's kill two Grifs with one stone.

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

Outside Blue Base, Epsilon and Tucker are arguing, while Caboose operates one of the Falcon turrets.

Epsilon: Alright, how about this. In exchange for letting me fly the new vehicle, I'll give you permanent shotgun.

Tucker: Dude, Screw that! The passenger seats are exactly the same, not to mention completely exposed.

Epsilon: Oh, but look! It's got a bad ass machine gun!

Caboose: (makes airplane noises) This is captain Caboose! We are at a losing altitude. The use of cell phones or other electronic devices is now permitted. If you are interested in our frequent flyer program, we will soon be handing out pamphlets.

Tucker: Listen, I'm not falling to my death just because you don't know how to fly that thing.

Epsilon: Oh what, and you do?

Tucker: Hell no! But I never get anything around here. You got the sniper rifle, Caboose got to drive the tank, and the Reds have their jeep.

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

Back at Red Base, the Warthog accelerates down the ramp with Grif screaming all the way down.

Grif: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH HH!!!!!

The Warthog crashes into the wall and explodes, stopping Grif's screaming. The burning remains roll in front of Red Team.

Grif: (weakly) ...Ow.

Simmons: Well, looks like that plan failed completely.

Sarge: Simmons, don't be so quick to judge! Grif, are you alive in there?

Grif: Yes... barely...

Sarge: Aw damn it... total failure...

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

Tucker: All I'm saying is, for someone who hasn't gotten laid since deployment, I sure do feel like I'm being screwed all the time.

Epsilon: (sigh) Okay, fine... I guess we'll just have to settle this the old fashion way.

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

Back at Red Base, Sarge stares at the wall until Simmons approaches him.

Sarge: Simmons, report status... I mean Status report, Simmons! (grumbles)

Simmons: Well sir, the Warthog is destroyed, the wall is still intact, and Donut says that Grif is lucky to be alive.

Sarge: All terrible news!

Simmons: I'd hate to say it sir, but I really don't think we have enough firepower to blast to the other side.

Sarge: So what I'm hearing you say is that we need to find something with even more firepower.

Simmons: Actually sir, I was saying...

Sarge: Like a tank!

Simmons: Wait, what?

Sarge: It's settled then! You and Grif will go commandeer the enemy vehicle.

Grif runs out of the base.

Grif: NO! There is no way I survived an 80 mile-per-hour crash, just to get blown up by a tank!

Sarge: Fine... Lopez...

Lopez is busy gathering up all the Warthog parts.

Sarge: Lopez, stop fooling around! You're going with Simmons to Blue Base.

Lopez: [Do I have to come back?]

Sarge: (to Grif) Now, start turning this ridiculous ramp contraption, into an equally ridiculous elevator contraption of similar value.

Grif: What? Why?

Sarge: Because, in the somewhat unlikely event that these two don't come back, we need to have a fallback plan.

Simmons: (sigh) What's the fallback plan?

Sarge: Simple, if we can't go through the wall, then we're going to go over it!

Grif: But... I hate heights...

A bird caws as if on cue.

Grif: (nervously) Almost as much as I hate birds.