Reaper sat in his berth on the dropship, looking over all of his squadmates.<br/>Widow, a marine after his own "heart". Reaper enjoyed practicing marksmanship with her, and respected her astute tactical mind. While he never admitted it, he always saw a lighter side in being wounded, as it would mean being administered to by her, the squad corpsman.<br/>Gizmo, one that Reaper saw as a liability most of the time, due to him not being a model soldier. He respected Gizmo's tech savvy however, and always did what he could to protect him.<br/>Sarge, his immediate superior. A good squad leader, one that Reaper so far had trusted not to get them all killed.<br/>Rome, a highly effective soldier. While his brash sarcasm grated on Reaper somewhat, he was grateful for Rome's prescense in any mission.<br/>Private Yui, the resident pyro. Reaper had not gotten to know her well as yet, and as such did not yet trust her.<br/>Senjo, the synthetic. To Reaper, she was merely a machine, a thing, but a useful one at that. He did not trust the company as far as he could throw it, so he always kept a good eye on the synthetic.<br/>As he mused about his squadmates, he wondered how many would survive. In the end, he thought, it was worthless worrying about it, all he could do was try to make the right decisions and stay frosty.<br/>Then, he looked over at Widow, catching her eye, and tapping himself on the shoulder twice, where he had taken a bullet in an artery once, a wound which Widow had patched up.