South, Donut, Simmons, and Lopez are keeping watch at Red Base.

South: Well, that's it. I'm empty. What about you guys?

Simmons: I'm out.

Donut: Me too!

Simmons: Well, that's it. I guess we're done, then.

Donut: Yeah. Guys, I gotta say, I didn't think I would go out like this.

Simmons: Yeah, whatever, that's nice.

Donut: You're not curious how I thought I would go out?

Simmons: No. No, not in the least.

South: Not really, no.

Donut: How about you, Simmons? Did you think you'd go out like this?

Simmons: Underequipped and surrounded by people I hate? Yeah, that's pretty much how I pictured it since I got assigned into this unit. You see, I'm a realist.

South: And also a terrible a soldier.

Lopez: [I always thought I would be taken out by poor maintenance.]

Simmons: Lopez is right. We need to think of something.

Donut: Can we escape?

Simmons: I don't see how. He's faster than us and stronger than us.

South: And has practically all the Freelancer equipment he stole from us wired into his armor.

Lopez: (glares at Simmons) [Plus, somebody blew up all our vehicles.]

Donut: Good idea, Lopez!

Simmons: You understood what he said?

Donut: Yeah! High school Spanish, remember? He said the Meta must have gotten here someway.

Lopez: [I did?]

Donut: We just need to find his vehicle, and steal it!

Simmons: That's a good idea, Lopez!

Lopez: [It is? No it isn't.]

South: An actual good idea from the 'think tank'.

Simmons: Okay, let's think. If you were a crazed lunatic, where would you hide a vehicle?

Lopez: [Maybe he cloaked it. That's what I would do.]

Donut: A garage is too obvious, Lopez. We need to think of something crazier.

South: Donut, I don't think that's what he-

Lopez: [Stop translating for me!]

Donut: Crazier!

Lopez: [That wasn't even a suggestion!]

Simmons: Well, clearly Lopez is just having an off-day, so let's ignore him.

Lopez: [Fuck you guys.]

South: (scoffs) He's still smarter than you two put together.

Simmons: So we're looking for some kind of vehicle, probably parked by Blue Base...

Lopez: [You're talking as if you know there is a vehicle!]

Donut: What if it only has three seats?

Simmons: Hmm, I didn't think about that... Hey Lopez, turn off your ears for a second.

Lopez: [What? Why would I do that?]

Simmons: Okay, are they off?

Lopez: [Yeah, they're off. That's why I can answer you.]

Simmons: Okay, good! (quietly to Donut and South) If there's no room, we'll just leave Lopez. He's pretty much expendable, and we won't be able to get any info outta him anyway.

Donut: I feel bad about it, though. He's been so loyal...

Simmons: So what? He's a robot. He has to be loyal! Dogs are loyal too but that doesn't mean you can't eat them when you're stranded in an arctic outpost and Command can't get rations through because of a seasonal blizzard.

South: (sarcastically) That wasn't specific at all...

Simmons: I don't want to talk about it. Hey Lopez, you can turn your ears back on now.

Lopez: [Click. Oh, I can hear again. What a fucking miracle.]

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

Back at the temple, Epsilon is still floating away, unable to stop. Tucker, Caboose, and Slade run after him.

Epsilon: Whoa, halt, cease! Uhh... abort dot move! Fuck!

Caboose: Church, wait!

Epsilon: Wait? I can't wait. I'm moving on my own! ...which I realize doesn't make sense when I say it out loud. (suddenly stops moving) Hey, look! I figured out how to stop!

Tucker: Wow, you figured out how to not move?! You're a genius.

Epsilon: Oh, check this out! I can go backwards too. (moves back a couple of inches) Zhoooop!

Tucker: Oh, well now you're just bragging.

Epsilon: Well, it's important to me, asshole.

Caboose: I'm impressed. I can't go backwards!

Epsilon: Stop patronizing me.

Tucker: Well, he's definitely starting to remember you.

Epsilon: I already know Caboose. He's the only guy that would talk to me while I was in storage.

Slade: Most people would think a person is crazy talking to a machine that doesn't talk back.

Tucker: You remembering anything else?

Epsilon: I don't know. It's... it's like fuzzy, for some reason. Maybe there's a file or some kind of database I can access from here. Gimme a second.

Tucker: Yeah, rooting around in your brain sounds like a great idea when you can barely figured out how to move on your own.

Caboose: Um. Hey, um, Tucker? Um, yeah, uh, Agent Washington told me that Church—I mean, uh, Epsilon, is uhm... a little messed up.

Tucker: Yeah. I can see that.

Caboose: Yeah, no, I mean he's got some, uh, memories that, uh, he probably... shouldn't access.

Tucker: What kind of memories?

Caboose: Uh, yeah, see, some people did some bad stuff to him, and uh, he's kind of repressed, uh... a lot of, uh... stuff. Do you know what a repressed memory is?

Tucker: Yeah, Caboose. I've repressed almost every moment I spent with you. I'm actually repressing this as we speak.

Slade: Yeah? Well you're not exactly a sight for sore eyes either, mate. If anything you make my sorer than ever.

Tucker: Pretty sure I wasn't talking to you.

Slade kicks Tucker's leg up, making him spin and hit the sand face-first.

Slade: Then you can talk to the sand. Because you both belong in the ground.

Epsilon: (mumbling) Schematics... what the hell is "schematic..." let's see... Man! There are a lot of functions in here. I can't figure out what a tenth of these even do!

Caboose: Is "nap" a function? Cuz that's my favorite—oh! Also, "eat ice cream."

Tucker: That is so. Stupid.

Slade: Says the moron still in the sand.

Tucker: (stands up) You know what?! Fuck you! It's your fault I'm in this mess to begin with! If you'd just killed that guy back in your Project or whatever, I wouldn't have gotten transferred out here and had to deal with him!

Slade grabs Tucker by the throat and yanks him forward so that their helmets touch.

Slade: Listen to me very carefully, arsehole. You don't know the first thing about the shit I did in that Project. I killed people that didn't have to die. Worked for a man that was indulged in his own self interests and thought everything irrelevant and/or expendable if didn't pertain to his goal. And now practically almost all my friends are dead and the only few that are one who's safe in Valhalla, one who's probably in jail, and the last is who knows where after his AI all got wiped out. So if you ever say one more thing about this being my fault, I'll make sure you never have to worry about anything again... because I will erase you from existence. Understand, Lavernius?

Tucker gulps and nods as he gets dropped to the ground, coughing.

Tex: (in Slade's mind) Cal... deep breaths.

Slade inhales slowly as he then exhales, closing his eyes. There is a crash outside the temple, as Slade looks up.

Slade: They don't know when to give up, do they?

Epsilon: Okay, here we go. What does this do?

Epsilon faces a wall and projects a video from his eye. In the video, there is a soldier walking with the floating epsilon unit.

Tucker: (rubbing his throat) What is this? Some kind of training film?

Epsilon: Yeah, I guess.

Caboose: I love movies. Do you have "Kramer vs. Kramer" in there?

Epsilon: It looks like it's teaching me how to interact with guys like—

In the video, the epsilon unit glows red and shoots a red ray of light at a soldier running towards him, blasting him to the side.

Tucker: Ohh, holy shit!

Slade: Told you.

Epsilon: Wow! I can do that!? I wanna do that, how do I do that!?

Tucker: Was that a laser? That was fucking awesome!

Epsilon: I gotta figure out how to do that!

Tucker: No! I told you guys not to touch anything, now you've got some floating crap! Who knows what that thing can do? Don't just go turning stuff on.

Epsilon: (grunting) What's that? I'ma try like—(grunts more)

Tucker: Whoa, whoa! And definitely don't turn it on while you're looking at me! That eye creeps me out anyway.

Epsilon: (looks at Slade) Are you sure cause-

Slade: Oi! Don't be looking at me either, ya wanker!

Epsilon: Well, maybe if I could just access my long-term memory so I can figure out how these functions work.

Caboose: Uh, oh, yeah, I don't know, see, I uh, I think that, maybe, sounds like a bad idea? And I don't know if I would go—

Epsilon: Uh-oh.

Caboose: What? What happened?

Epsilon: Crap. Instead of turning on my long-term memory, I think I just shut off my short-term memory.

Caboose: Oh... Is that bad?

Epsilon: Huh? Is what bad?

Caboose: Your memory thingy getting shut off.

Epsilon: Who shut off my memory?

Caboose: You did.

Epsilon: I did what?

Caboose: Shut off your memory?

Epsilon: Why do you want me to shut off my memory?

Caboose: No, it's already shut off.

Epsilon: What is?

Caboose: Your memory.

Epsilon: Yeah, what about it?

Tucker: Wow. Well, this is a drastic improvement. Hey, you!

Epsilon: Me?

Tucker: Yes! You! Don't touch anything else or try to activate any computer stuff.

Epsilon: (turns to Caboose) Are you gonna answer him?

An explosion occurs outside the temple, making the ground rumble.

Caboose: Did you hear that?!

Tucker: Aw, crap!

Epsilon: Oh my God, what are we yelling about!?

Tucker: I think they busted into the temple!

Slade: No shit, Mr. "State The Goddamn Obvious"!

Epsilon: Oh fuck, that sounds bad, where's the temple?

Tucker: Jesus Christ, don't let him talk to me anymore!

Epsilon/Caboose: Okay, don't talk to him.

Tucker: I can't fucking believe I have two of them now. (runs off)

Slade: Welcome to my world with you lot: Planet Broken Records!