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the power cell was identical in makeup and configuration to the power cell we possessed with the artifact suit.
    Garrett unclipped the dirt-encrusted cell. "I bet if we put the cell from our suit in here, this weapon would still fire. Other than some surface corrosion, there really isn't anything else to fail. Nothing is mechanical, and the rest is made of molded pieces."
    I replied, "I don't think we want to use the power in that good cell until we know how to recharge it."
    Garrett nodded. "I wasn't saying we should do it, only that we could. Either way, I have to say this whole adventure is about as exciting as it could get. I mean, we all knew that there was a War of Wars. What we didn't know was that there was an actual battlefield that has lain untouched for two thousand years. This is just very exciting stuff."
    As I stood looking over the field I began to wonder if what we were doing was right. Aside from being a battlefield, this was a graveyard. According to the archives, millions of lives were lost before the Duke met his end.
    As I continued to think about the stories of the War of Wars, a feeling of exhilaration washed over me. I imagined the heroics put forth by the individuals who fought for our cause, defeating the evil Duke and his minions.
    I then had a sudden realization that my people, the Grunta, were a big part of the Duke's minions. Up until his defeat, we had fought against the Humans and their allies. Having lived all but the last ten years of my life under the free and fair society that made up the AMP, I was suddenly plagued with guilt. The Duke had lied to and abused my people, along with countless others, but we had fought for him just the same.
    After several more hours of digging up battlefield trinkets, Garrett called out. "I think I might have a helmet over here!"
    Garrett held up his arm with an image of the local scan. "That is a helmet if I ever saw one. I believe this to be a partial upper torso with one arm and the head intact."
    I replied, "I'm feeling like a grave robber."
    Garrett shook his head. "These people won't care. The ones who will are the species out there being conscripted: i.e. your family. If I were you, I'd be working over this field with my shovel right now. If that AMP battle-suit does what we think it will with a helmet, it will be our best way of getting back onto that gate structure, and opening that portal."
    After a short dig, the remains were unearthed. The helmet was not a match. It instead belonged to a species from the Delta sector. The Hatcha were a small, very private people, whose numbers had fallen to be only in the tens of thousands. Their cultural norm for more than a century was to have only a single child per household. The families all lived in wealth and luxury, but as a species they were dangerously close to corrupting their gene pool. Each year, genetic birth defects became more prevalent.
    Garrett pulled the helmet from the upper portion of the battle suit. "Well, at least Kerba can add one to his collection."
    I replied, "It has the skull of a fallen warrior in it. I believe we should return it to the hole. I'm beginning to find our efforts a bit distasteful."
    Garrett pointed. "That's your family out there! I'd be scouring this field for anything and everything if it was mine."
    I frowned. "I have no intention of stopping. I just find it objectionable, that's all. I'm not here to collect trinkets."
    The rest of the Megiddo day, along with much of the next, was spent digging up and identifying artifacts from the War of Wars.
    After unearthing another piece of a blaster, I jammed the head of my shovel down into the earth. "I think we are wasting time here. If we fly the Jess low over the fields, can't we create a three dimensional model of every item scanned that is bigger than my thumb? We won't have colors, but we'll be able to easily pick out anything that is even remotely shaped like a helmet."
    Garrett nodded. "Not only that, but I can write a