[center][h1][color=#DAEE01][b]Salvator Rasch[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

Was the goddamned Invictoid [i]trying[/i] to get him shot? Judging by the look it had shot him after all but inviting the team to try to supplant him, yes. Not that he even wanted the job, but no one else had stepped up, and someone had to establish chain of command. 

[color=#DAEE01][b]"For the record, if any of you proves you can do a better job, I'll gladly hand over command. So don't feel like you have to frag me for it."[/b][/color]

___

They were off to a bad start with the other team, it seemed. Was it too much to hope for professionalism, for once? Salvator resisted the urge to snap back, instead giving his armament a brief once over as he replied in a conversational tone.

[color=#DAEE01][b]"Just be glad we'll be the ones stuck in that hellhole checking every corner, and not you and yours. Not looking forward to it, myself."[/b][/color] He'd kept the heavy biomechanical shotgun he'd looted from the previous mission. Considering they'd be in very close quarters, its firepower would be useful. Although...

A quick march over towards a workbench had Salvator lay the shotgun on top, starting to cut the barrel down a few inches with the tools available. As it was, the length would be too cumbersome. 

[color=#DAEE01][b]"You got a name? Designation? Callsign? Or should we stick to calling you 'support'?"[/b][/color]