The screen illuminates, revealing an encoded message that unscrambles itself as the projector recognizes your credentials. It reads:

This on? Uhh… start recording. Oh, it is… okay.

Hey, hero—[clears throat]

Hey, hero.

You dredged up some mighty fine scrap for me. Pyramid tech that all those rot-bags could get their hands on, and I hammered that black gold into shape. Now my rig's running smoother than liquid methane.

Sloane and the long girl, their special link is pretty strong, thanks to you and me, but it's missing something to bridge the gap between the big ol' worm and our little ol' lady, Thunderguns… respectfully.

Seeing as how you're always in the mood to do favors, how 'bout one more? I need something… under the table.

We need a little something out of both worlds, you dig? One of those traitor Ghosts. The bad ones… the Hive ones. Scrap 'em, and bring me the fragments.

Savvy's throne world is chock full of 'em, but I've got one in mind. Details'll hit ya soon.