<div align="center"><strong><em>Lance Corporal Roman “Rome” Beneke – 1st Squad – USS Johannesburg – Cryotube Room</em></strong></div><br/>(http://i1191.photobucket.com/albums/z466/Corvus269/Characters/Roman.jpg)<br/><br/>Calm. Still. Quiet. Cryo sleep was the only time in his life when these words could be used to describe Lance Corporal Roman Benke, affectionately known as “Rome” to anyone who knew him at all. Rome was a big man, to put it mildly. At 6’3” 253 lbs, Rome easily dwarfed nearly the whole platoon. Rome was loudmouthed, shit talking, badass… and he knew it. He had been with Kilo Platoon going on two years now. Kilo had seen some bad shit. They’d been through the grinder and had new faces in the squad to fill the roles of fallen squad mates to prove it. Rome was no stranger to losing friends in combat, though he never really let it show how it affected him. He was good with that; masking his true feelings. Most people were just scared of him, thought of him as cold, ruthless, fearless… even heartless. But Widow’s death back on LV-1875 had affected him more than any other and he was finding not quite as easy to turn off the emotions that flared through him when he had flashbacks to that moment.<br/><br/>As he sat on the side of the crytube capsule stark naked, he clenched his eyes shut and shook his head briefly; an attempt to purge those images of Widow from his mind. He had never dreamed before during cryo sleep, at least none that he could recall. But this time was different. Nightmares of Widow haunted him for the duration of their journey and it had taken its toll on him. He  suddenly came to his senses, becoming keenly aware of the goings on around him as 1st squad spilled from their cryotubes and set about making ready to launch planteside.<br/><br/>Pushing the nightmares and the images of Widow from his mind he gave a cough and stood up. Lifting his arms high overhead and back behind him, he stretched his whole body, having no shame in his nakedness. In fact, Rome was rather proud to flaunt. He was a large man, after all. His old squad mates were used to it by now and wisely demanded that he take the capsule at the far end so that didn’t have to look at him when they came out of suspension. This time, however, there was the replacement LT and two replacement squad members. Ever the prankster, Rome beat them to the punch, thinking it would be funny to give them an eye full of Rome at the end of their journey. He had got a good look at Pvt. DeSilva and was determined to get some action out of her in the near future. This would be an opportunity to show off a little.<br/><br/>Turning around to face her, he was just in time to catch a glimpse of her bending over and clasping her hands behind her ankles as she enjoyed a much needed, long stretch.<strong>”Mmm! Mmm! MMM!!… Damn, baby girl! Daddy like. You keep doing that, you and me’s gonna get along REEEEAL nice like, know what I’m sayin’?”</strong>He had reached up with both hands to grab hold of some piping that ran along the ceiling, giving a good stretch himself.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Too bad the brass didn’t upgrade you to a higher caliber weapon for this mission...daddy.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>Rome remained undetered by DeSilvia's comment, secure enough in his manhood to know that any comments alluding to a diminutive phallus was merely an attempt on her part to save face. His gaze followed her as she sauntered away, remaining silent to allow her this small victory. Noticing Pfc. Shaw, another replacement, glancing his way, he smiled a big, toothy grin at the man and giving him a wink.<strong>"She likes me."</strong><br/><br/>Playtime ended much too soon. The new Lieutenant, Lt. Rastenburg was a real by-the-book stick in the mud and promptly put a stop to Rome’s shenanigans. Rome didn’t much like the man and missed having Lt. Mengsk as his CO. He still couldn’t understand why the Marine brass had decided to transfer him to another squad within the same platoon. Didn’t make much since to Rome, but as he was often reminded when he tried to make sense of the hows and whys,<em>‘his was not question why, his was just to do and die.’</em><br/><br/>Three hours later Rome had taken a much needed shower, scarfed down a couple bowls of his favorite military slop and was back at his locker. It was time to gear up and Rome was very serious about gearing up, paying special attention to each strap and buckle, checking and rechecking every piece of equipment. After several long minutes, the big man, fully geared, strode towards 1st squad’s assigned drop ship with determination and a fierce, hungry look in his dark chocolate eyes.<br/><br/><div align="center"><em><strong>~Inside 1st squad’s Dropship~</strong></em></div><br/>Rome marched up the loading ramp, looking around once he was inside. He pummeled a fist against his chest plate, whereon his blood type, O positive, was stenciled in red at the top left. Painted in white at center mass was a particularly creepy looking Death’s Head design with the word<em>‘Minister’</em>painted above and<em>‘of Death’</em>below.<strong>FUCK YEAH! What a badass looking bunch of marines, baby! And another glorious day to die for the Corps! WOOOOO!</strong>He had that crazy look in his eyes again, that big, freakish smile with those gleaming rows of pearly white teeth. This was a ritual with Rome; a means to psyche up both himself and his fellow marines before they embarked on a mission. He spotted a vacant seat next to DeSilva and shoved Shaw out of the way.<strong>That seat’s taken, private,</strong>he said matter-of-factly to Shaw, flashing another toothy grin at the man.<br/><br/>He positioned his M56 between his legs, the barrel pointed straight up along his torso. He grinned playfully at DeSilva as he stroked his hand slowly up and down the barrel, which had the words<em>’Sexy Beast’</em>crudely scrawled along the length of the feed cover. Painted onto either side of the frame of the stabilized articulation arm where the gun itself is clipped and secured are a pair of hatefilled, glaring red eyes and a fearsome, gaping jaw filled with jagged rows of teeth. He patted the custom, side mounted motion tracker and winked at DeSilva.<strong>”I had this custom installed, compliments of good ole’ Giz.”</strong>He glanced across the aisle to Gizmo who was seated opposite him. Gizmo simply gave a soft smile a nod.<br/><br/>After a few minutes, Rome finally shut up for a few minutes during the drop, then he glanced back to her again, seeming to have forgotten everyone else onboard.<strong>”This is one of my favorite parts, ya know? The plunge.”</strong>He wasn’t sure if she was paying him any attention or not but that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Never did phase Rome.<br/><br/><strong>”Now take Giz, here… he’s not to f…”</strong>He was cut off in mid sentence as the ship lurched hard to starboard, throwing him back against the his seat back.<br/><br/><strong><em>"We're taking fire! I repeat taking fire, expect a hot LZ!"</em></strong><br/><br/>Rome instantly went into combat mode, becoming rigid and alert as he glanced out the ships port hole as though he might be able to kill whoever was firing on them with a mere look.<br/><br/><strong><em>”WE’RE HIT!”</em></strong><br/><br/><strong>”Suck my cock! Who the fuck is firing at us! Gets us on the ground!”</strong>Rome roared angrily, anxious to return their fire. His shouts were lost over the deafening shudder of the ship and the whine of its engine as it spiraled ever closer to the jungle canopy below.<br/><br/>There was a sudden, blinding jolt, and then blackness. The next thing Rome knew, he was coming too, crumpled in a massive heap near the front of the ship, mere feet from where the cockpit had once been. He had a nice, deep cut across his bicep, marring his SPQR tattoo that was set against a laurel wreath. Blood trickled freely down his arm as he collected himself, instinctively grabbing his helmet though he was still not sure where he was or what had just happened. He looked up at as he set his helmet on his head and saw….<strong>”Widow?”</strong>He asked out loud as he looked at Senjo, checking Lt. Rastenburg’s pulse. He closed his eyes and shook his head and when he opened them again, he saw Senjo and suddenly remember where he was.<br/><br/>He thumbed the power toggle on his M56 Smart gun and picked his way through the debris towards the loading ramp. He noticed Gizmo’s still, lifeless body still harnessed into this seat and took a moment staring at him. His expression grew fierce and he swung the M56 rearward, towards the ramp, stomping hatefully. He noticed that Shaw was dead too. It wasn’t hard to miss as a large chunk of metal that had once been part of the ship’s interior had become a lethal piece of shrapnel that had cleanly decapitated Shaw, catching him just beneath his helmet.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"1st Squad! Talk to me!"<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Rome didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Stepping into the loading ramp opening, he squared up and lowered his smart gun, firing blindly into the thick foliage that surrounded them.<strong>”Ya’ll want some of this, motherfuckers?!  Ya’ll want some?!? WELL HERE I AM, BITCHES! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?  ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME, BABY!!!! WOOOOO!!!!”</strong>Rome was enraged. Another squad member dead… and just when he was staring to like the kid too. Fuck.