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[b]Name:[/b] Bruce 'Bridge' Newett
[b]Age:[/b] 35
[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Appearance: [/b]

[IMG]http://i67.tinypic.com/zjbf9f.jpg[/IMG]

Bruce, code name 'Bridge', stands at a modest 5'10", but is packed densely with muscle from years of physical training, as is standard among the Orion Militia; let alone the 7-5. His presence can be intimidating for most, due to a usually stern, annoyed expression... and his entirely bionic arms. 

Bridge is not particularly attached to any choice of combat gear or YETI, and prefers to wear casual, comfortable clothing in non-combat situations, blending in with the locals. As the majority of his use in combat comes from his bionic arms, he takes whatever is provided for him, assuming any coverings for his arms are removed to ensure full maneuverability.

[b]History / Background:[/b]

Bruce grew up on a remote, near-barren farm on a desolate, nameless, grey desert planet, faintly known by the Orion and near equally uncared for by the ruling Nym Republic. In a rural corner of the planet, overrun with greed and inequality by local gangs and criminal organizations, he spent his childhood building a hearty constitution with his father, toiling day and night to ensure they would grow enough crops for the season to survive. That is, ensuring they had enough crops hidden away after what they were "taxed".

In his later life, gaining the fortunes of a wonderful wife, a beautiful daughter, and caring for his elderly father, he joined a local militia in hopes of fending off the growing, organizing threats of an all-encompassing crime syndicate. This militia was simply swallowed up in time, as they all were, by the growing power of this syndicate. Bruce was left no choice but to join... or have his family suffer the consequences.

Despite his obedience, Bruce was rewarded with his family's century old ranch and two acres of crops burned to oblivion... with his family trapped inside. It seemed that the drugged up perpetrators, bottom dweller cronies, got the wrong disobedient farmer's ranch. Two hours after the fact, Bruce had regained consciousness after what he assumed to be a fit of rage, considering he quickly found one of the cronies with a face resembling ground beef.

With nothing left of his old life, having lost any faith he once had to be at peace, he fled the planet with what little funds he could gather. With nowhere else to go, he took refuge with the Orion Empire. He was a poor marksmen from the get-go, but clearly shined when it came to CQC. He was chosen as one of the few qualified and stupid enough to take part in one of Orion's more extreme, experimental modification programs, willingly forgoing his arms for some new "upgrades." It was a bet that paid off, providing him lightning fast, concrete-shattering, sonic wave punches, with "sonic shields" that project from his elbows.

Very slowly, more due to passion than any natural talent, Bridge has slowly risen the ranks until he was selected to join the 7-5 from the onslaught. He was at least smart enough to know why; the team would need some disposable bodies willing to charge the front lines. To both his own surprise and the Empires, Bridge has lasted all this time. While usually reserved at best and downright unfriendly to most, Bridge has taken a serious liking to his team, fostering a near familial relationship. He fights to protect them like a father, as they're the only people left in his life to live for.

[b]Personality:[/b]

Impatient
Aggressive
Protective
Sarcastic
Unrelenting

[b]Specialties:[/b]

1. [b][u]Close Quarters Combat:[/u][/b] Bridge's primary responsibility is in his namesake; bridging the gap between his team and their target. Bridge revels in getting close and personal, and his hyper-technological limbs help him stride into battle with bullets whizzing past (or ricocheting off his shields).

2. [b][u]Defensive Line:[/u][/b] Bridge keeps a close eye on his allies. If combat starts to get hairy for anyone in particular, Bridge is the first to come to their aid with sonic shields at the ready... if he isn't too busy smashing a head, or a foot-thick wall.
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