Six to one...
Derek 'ports into the Nexus, covered in blackish-red goo, blood, bruises and a nice gash along the left side of his face that's healing fairly quickly--noticably closing up as he looks around to make sure he's in a 'safe' spot.
His jeans and his t-shirt are torn up. The trade-mark leather jacket is holding up all right, although it's got several score-marks from close encounters with raking claws.
After a moment, he lets go of the spear in his left hand. Already split into two pieces, it makes a hollow wooden sound as it clatters to the ground.
"Anyone have a decent amount of C-4 I can have in the next five minutes?"
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and running a dirty, grime covered hand though hair already spiked with blood and mud.
Yes, folks, he is a mess.
"And...following tradition for the rest of you who can't answer the first..."
It takes him a moment--his mind is obviously focused on someplace else.
"...What's the single-most annoying thing in your job that you have to deal with?"