"[i][color=00a651]Oh, great, scared off by a mouse, glad they were so confident in me.[/color][/i]"

[b]That Night[/b]

Teller sighed and killed the external speakers [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BmEGm-mraE]as another entry from his own music playlist came on.[/url] Teller kicked it up to a jog to leave the building, considering his recon mission to be effectively over. He picked a home from the village at random, deciding to again try and settle in for some rest. Just like every house before it, and the Blythe towers in full view of the college girls, Teller pied off the door after opening it before breaching in, and as ever looted the kitchen, finding little of use in this one. Teller this time took the moment to purloin some bits of string from about the house and use them to rig a trap with one of remaining three frags. He then came to rest on the bed in one of the bedrooms, opening his faceplate and setting the armor to alert him in either eight hours ("[i][color=00a651]Gotta get enough sleep or I won't be worth shit.[/color][/i]") or if the armor detected possible hostile motion (Meaning anything above the height of 4'0 that does not possess a recognized IFF tag). With a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes, somehow sensing his dreams were going to be rougher than usual.

[i]January 11th, 2066, CPT. James Teller, UASD Team 6

"[color=00a651]Make every bullet count boys and girls! If they mean to kill us, let's bleed em for it![/color]" Captain Teller barked his order as he took big, clunky steps to the nearby window. This [url=http://troyperry.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/eliterotationcomp-1500x518.jpg]heavy assault armor[/url] didn't move nearly as fast as normal battle armor, but it hit hard and could go toe to toe with an IFV, so Teller would love nothing more for his last stand. Outside, thousands of Muslim and Catholic soldiers stood ready to kill the small team of Rangers held up inside. Yukiko lay on the roof, ready to eliminate officers, Enrico and Bjorn had the North, Salvador West, Teller and the rookie, Matthias had the South, while Siegfried and Vasily had the East. Team Six had been compromised during a raid behind the lines of the Crusade, and with CAS an hour away and any hope of an extraction equally as far, the operators had resigned themselves to death.

Yet, they were [b]Rangers[/b], they were humanity's most stalwart guardian against supernatural threats, and now they had become the stalwart guardian of the forces of Hell (as surprising as it was) from unwarranted aggression. Deltas were, it turned out, people too, though their species were what caused this apocalypse. Wolf ordered they would defend them, and so the Rangers would. As such, Teller looked down at the heavy rifle in his hand, gently exhaled, and looked out at the rowdy mob of warriors facing them, psyching themselves up. Teller had no intention of letting them pick their moment, and so keyed his SQUADCOM, solemnly intoning "[color=00a651]Its been an honor and a pleasure working with all of you...weapons free, fire at will.[/color]" [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch/?v=36OiRIxup3w#Sabaton-Sparta]Enrico cued, for what Teller thought would be the last time, his choice of combat music[/url] and with the resounding thunder of guns, Team Six engaged.
[/i]

[b]The Next Morning[/b]

Teller woke to the sound of his armor alarm, a quick glance at his armor clock confirming he'd been down for eight hours. He figured he'd skim the logs to see if anything interesting happened while he was down later, but it did have a record of a COM signal the suit's simple AI had detected. A quick listen, however, revealed it had been Oren's open broadcast, referencing an explosion he'd apparently slept through, as well as the ability to request a COM to his opponent ("[i][color=00a651]Why in Sam Hill would I want that? They could listen to the shit in my background and figure out where I am.[/color][/i]") or request directions to his opponent. However, for the moment, Teller had no desire to find his opponent until he had picked his battleground. What he did do, however, was say aloud "[color=00a651]Hey, Oren, as I recall ya'll promised me some intel and an artifact. Ya mind deliverin on your end of the deal so I can get rolling?[/color]"

Waiting for an answer, Teller's mind was drawn back to the dream of the night before. That stand had cost him several good men, but he hadn't had a choice really. They had no way of knowing they were compromised until it was too late, and they couldn't have realistically escaped. Applying any conventional logic or tactics, there was no way Teller could have predicted what happened. And yet, he still had those nightmares, he still saw the faces of the brave Rangers he lost. Teller shook his head hard to clear those thoughts from his mind and popped open his faceplate. Grabbing the elf's flask from before, Teller uncorked it and took a brief swig, shaking his head again as the unfamiliar taste of the strange booze hit him. He recorked the flask and hung it back where it was originally, on his chest rig, mumbling "[color=00a651]Least I can start my day off right, with a drink.[/color]"