Oswald Connolly- Convoy Escort

Alright, this was it. The good ol' boys of MODA were ready to tear these guys a structurally superfluous new behind. Sitting on the hull of the [i]Unsubtle[/i] as the aptly named war machine chugged forward, Oswald put his hand over his heart, which was beating more and more rapidly in preparation for the upcoming battle. He flexed his newly healed wrist, itching to get the battle on with. He could only hope that the trucks listened to Marcus and stayed the hell away from it all. 

As the bulk of team MODA approached the enemy, Oswald covered his ears so that he wouldn't go deaf when the cannon fired. He was glad to have such gross power on his side, but it was way too loud for this kind of thing. Their enemy had yet to be positively identified, but that was hardly an issue. Their job was to get this dust shipment moving, and these folks were stopping them. Thus, they had to be defeated.