It was either the threat of drowning or the almost-inspiring speech that Fiddlesticks gave which drove the bees into action. Faced with the twin threats of a watery death and another motivational pep-talk, the bees nodded to one another and marshalled their forces, which also happened to make plenty of noise.

 Team A, who were loudly arguing about proper procedure, what the 'super' will do if they fail and exactly which of their number is one day away from retirement, took the left and... found a dead end. It looked like this pipe would go on for a little way further, but had been converted into a food cache by a civilisation of tiny insects. Given the damp and entirely unsanitary conditions, the food would no doubt be labelled as "Almost Fresh!" if it were to appear on the shelves of some unscrupulous SpaceMarket. A few of the bees retched at the smell, and they buzzed their way back down to Fiddlesticks to report on their findings, all the while trying to clean themselves with their cute little hands.

 "[color=fff200]It's a mess, a real mess,[/color]" the spokesbee for Team A muttered, "[color=fff200]you can get forensics down there pronto, but they'll tell you what I'm telling you right now. If you want a nasty soup, that's the way to go. If you want outta here, left is a no-go.[/color]"

 Team B marched down the right hand pipe, singing motivational songs about the importance of teamwork and friendship [i]and[/i] the benefits of recycling. Morale amongst the team was ludicrously high, save for the occasional sudden argument about exactly what Team B's theme song should be. The group were quite divided on that issue, both wanted a ridiculously up-beat pop track, but neither side could settle on exactly [i]how[/i] awesome the 'kick-ass guitar solo bit in the middle' should be. Illuminated by the GloBrellas, they could see their pipe was of relatively new construction, having not yet given in to a lifetime of rust and grime. However, it twisted about, a lot, bending this ay and that to avoid some older construction. A couple of rats huddled together in the darkness, gnawing on a discarded pizza crust. Finally, the pipe turned [i]upwards[/i], and the bees poked their head out - this pipe intersected a tunnel, running [i]left[/i] and [i]right[/i]. Pale little rat-creatures formed a steady line of traffic, running to the left.

 The Team B representative fluttered back to Fiddlesticks as fast his little bee wings could carry him, to report back and to ask for advice as to which way to go. Given the deadlock over the theoretical guitar solo in a song that will never exist, it was probably for the best that they'd seek direction from Fiddlesticks about something as important as which direction to take.

 "[color=6ecff6]Commander, we've got a problem, the pipe, we can either go left, or right. My vote is for left, but we need firm, decisive leadership! We're on a knife-edge in terms of morale! The [i]Mind-Blowingly Awesome Guitar Soloists[/i] are threatening to form their own squad,[/color]" the Team B representative paused to catch his breath, "[color=6ecff6]and they're taking Jerry, who's got this great idea for costumes![/color]"

 The B Team, or as they were officially called, Team C, trekked forwards. It reminded them of their time in the 'urban jungle', where they were paid to help a sweet old lady walk her dog in the park. The team agreed that it was a great mission, full of exploding cars, running gun battles and a bit at the end where they all laughed and jumped up in the air to celebrate right before something else exploded. As far as funerals for sweet little old ladies went, it was a memorable one. None of this ever happened, but the bees were happy pretending that it did. Team C followed their pipe until it joined up with a large, concrete tunnel. Water dripped from a pipe in the ceiling, which could probably be climbed up by somebody man-sized, though it'd be a bit of a squeeze. A hand-rail, set into the wall of the concrete tunnel, would make it very easy to explore further along to the [i]left[/i] or [i]right[/i].

 Team C sent back their messenger. Somewhere between here and there, he'd found a bit of trash he could roll up and use as a cigar. It made him feel like a [i]real[/i] mercenary, and he couldn't wait to get back to his team to show off his new accessory.

 "[color=f49ac2]So, I'm your official liaison for this job,[/color]" the bee chewed on the fake cigar, and then spat it out, because it tasted somehow [i]worse[/i] than something you'd expect to find washed up in a sewer, "[color=f49ac2]and we've got a decision to make. Big bit of tunnel we're at here, there's the left, there's the right, and there's also a chance to get [i]up[/i]. My money's on right, because only [i]commies[/i] go left.[/color]"

[hider=GM Notes, Out Of Character Stuff Here!]
If it makes it easier to visualise, I can draw out the information that the Cleaner Bot has gathered. Hopefully this all makes sense, is easy enough to follow and at least vaguely interesting to read.
Turn 2 will begin with your next set of orders.
I am being incredibly mean by saying that your first set of orders was Turn 1, but the GM Hat [i]compels me[/i] to do so.

[b]Summary:[/b]
Team A reports a dead-end.
Team B faced with a choice between left and right.
Team C faced with a choice between left, right, and up.[/hider]