The path through the Salt Flats and into the more rocky terrain, filled with mesas and mountains, was a silent journey. Tysiac had kept his head on a swivel, his gaze occasionally scanning the horizon as the tank rumbled onwards with the vans and Warthogs keeping alongside. Constance had swapped with Wash in control of the Mongoose for her to rest as the two continued leading the convoy to Q-Base.

Bethany in the meanwhile, had hitched her bike to the side of the Scorpion tank, as her ride was proving unsuitable for the terrain. Now, she rested close to the Scorpion's cockpit and laying down, her expression remaining troubled as she stared at the sky.

Tysiac elected to not press for her thoughts. The two had already gotten over what they heard and learned from the Director, in addition to the Director having initially tried to send Beth on her own rampage. Though, over on the right side of the tank, Tysiac noticed York had leaned over a bit to Church, his tone casual, but with a probing edge, "So, Church... Mind if I ask ya something?"

The whitened Werewolf gave a grumble, trying to keep the dust and dirt from kicking up and hitting his legs, "Depends on what you're asking, I guess."

York gave a faint smile, keeping his tone light, "Just a bit of curiosity. You remember anything around Freelance Division? Maybe anything from before boot camp?"

Church stiffened a little, his fur bristling a little as he looked over. He drew the word out, suspicion bleeding through, "Wuhhhy are you asking about my past?"

Giving a shrug, the yellow furred Chupadore kept a friendly face, "Like I said, just curious about a fellow Werewolf. And well, it might count as vetting. Besides, a guy like you comes across to me as someone who'd rather be anywhere but here. Wearing armor, fighting, behaving like a soldier. But you keep chasing Tex a lot. Sooo, what seminar got you dropped into joining Blues and ended up with us?"

The pale Werewolf gave a scoff as Tysiac multitasked, in keeping an eye on the world around them, following Wash's lead, and keeping the tank steady. After a few seconds, Church replied, "I didn't.... But I'm not one to just leave Tex behind."

Tysiac didn't see it, but as he made another scan around with his eyes, the Spartan could easily guess the Werewolf was giving a sideglance towards Beth.

"So that's it? Just following her?" York tilted his head.

Church's tone hardened and became defensive, "Yeah, so what? I don't need a reason to follow or stick close to someone I care about."

York raised his claws as Tysiac gave a glance to check on the two, his helmet shielding his eyes, "Hey, relax. I'm not judging you. Just wanting to know you, and figured it'd help to have someone willing to talk to ya."

Church muttered something, but the rumble of the tank masked his words as the convoy continued onwards.

The sight of a derelict mining facility began to come into focus from the haze of the wastelands, and Wash nudged Constance awake before revving the Mongoose's engine. They began speeding toward the facility, likely to alert the occupants of their arrival. York noticed the two Freelancers speeding off and reached over to nudge Bethany's foot a little to get her attention.

Beth blinked before sitting up and looking at the facility. Giving a nod, she moved closer to Tysiac and pointed towards a set of structures nestled beneath an overhanging mesa, "Over there's a few spots for us to park and hide our rides. Park the tank behind one of the buildings."

With the convoy adjusting course and picking up speed, the echoes of their engines bounced off of the rock walls. Tucker was the first to give a yell of relief on being given shade, as he had taken to hiding beneath the Scorpion's turret throughout the travel.

Parking under the natural cover and behind the abandoned buildings within the mesa, the Movement, their Freelancers and Tysiac were quick to dismount and unpack only what they needed. Tysiac especially sought for a few resources that they had gathered from the base, having recalled how Bethany and Constance spoke about Q-Base's leader not the friendliest of Chupadores.

As Tysiac made his way to follow Constance, who had returned to lead the Movement into the base, York slowed down and matched Tysiac's stride. The Spartan watched as the Werewolf Chupadore came to his side, his eyebrow raised before asking, "Something the matter, York?"

York gave a small smirk as he spoke casually, "Well, I've been noticing that you and Bethany have been getting pretty close lately. I can't say I know everything that goes on in her mind, but I'd still say I know her enough she's never acted close to anyone before."

Tysiac's helmet hid his reaction, but he still frowned. That was something that had been in the background of his mind. The Spartan replied with a neutral tone, "Much of our interaction has been strictly business, you've seen us in L-Base as sparring partners. Especially as I'm someone who keeps up with her. What happened with her past being dredged and enlightened in Freelance Command, I've mostly just been a sturdy rock nearby."

York gave a sage nod, though he didn't look convinced, "Mmm, sure. Fair points. But you sure that's it? Because if I didn't know any better--"

"Agent York, I'd recommend cutting time on reading your romance novels. Especially the ones pertaining to extraterrestrial love." Tysiac said, rolling his eyes.

The Chupadore's fur fluffed in surprise as he barely contained the stutter, "H-how the? What makes you think I--"

Tysiac tilted his head towards York before tracing a smile across his visor with a finger, "I'm ONI, York. And ONI likes to know things."

York came to a slowing stop as realization dawned across his face, followed quickly by discomfort, "You've... You bugged my room, didn't you?'

Tysiac grinned, but didn't respond to the accusation. Though before York could press further, there was the sound of raised voices up ahead, and nearby the entrance into Q-Base. With a frown, Tysiac pushed his way through the Freelancers and Movement Militia, the shouting becoming clear.

Constance and Wash were locked in an argument with a very heated paraplegic Chupadore woman in a wheelchair. Her fur a muted grey and her expression hardened with a great deal of bitterness and years of military experience. And with Tysiac now within better hearing range, he caught wind of the wheelchair-bound woman's rant, "You do not get to just show up like you own the fucking place! You and your fucking 'Lancer circus after what you played with us?!"

Wash met her glare with one of his own, the kind that said they've done this dance before. He snarled back, his tail lashing and his stance rigid, "You already know we were coming here in the first place, Nelson! It's why we had a gathering planned up!"

The woman was about to retort with something biting, but as Tysiac's towering form came closer, she turned her attention to him. The paraplegic Chupadore's eyes sized him up before she narrowed her eyes, her voice all but spitting suspicion, "And what the fuck are you supposed to be, tin can?"

Tysiac kept his voice steady as he replied, "Reinforcements. We're here to both regroup, consolidate what we've acquired, then plan out our next move."

That seemed to exasperate the woman as Nelson used her arms to roll the wheelchair and get closer, "Oh, the big tin can's the fucking messiah of Sirca, is he? Coming here and telling me he's consolidating!"

Tysiac brought a step forwards, holding his patience as he kept his tone measured, "The Director is permanently out of play and the Freelancers are no longer under his thumb. We've information and resources. Some of those resources we're willing to give, but that will need your cooperation. We've a bigger fight than squabbling over a defunct division and a rebel militia."

"Oh fuck you!" The paraplegic retorted, "'Cooperation,' my ass. I've heard enough propaganda to shit it from my chair!"

"And the more you're sitting and festering with it, the more time we're wasting and the more our chances against Omega worsens." Tysiac raised his voice slightly, taking another step and leaning forwards a little, "You want him dead, and so do we. We have critical enough intel and we brought scavenged resources from the Freelancer H.Q for you to take pickings at. Your choice."

Nelson glared at him for a long moment, her jaw tightening. Finally, she gave an unhappy scoff before leaning back in her wheelchair, "Fine. But you're telling me everything you got at that damn base. And I get prime pickings from those 'resources'."

"Deal." Tysiac replied firmly.

She reversed, allowing the gathered Movement and Freelancers to enter. As Nelson led them into Q-Base as Wash gave a sigh, rubbing his clawed hand over his face, "Tysiac, Nelson. Nelson, Tysiac."

Tysiac kept himself from giving a noise as he replied, "Charming woman."

Constance gave an amused and sympathetic look to the Spartan, "Hey, at least you sweetened her up."

Tysiac looked at her with bewilderment as they entered the wooden supported mines. That was sweetened?

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.