Requested Position: Comm-tech, or marksman.
Name: Wesley Micheal Hoban
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Date of Birth: 2221
Place of Birth: Seattle, Washington
Race and Ethnicity: Caucasian, American
Height: 5'11
Weight: 195 lbs
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Brown
Medical Record: No allergies.
Physical Appearance: Physically fit, but built more like a tennis player than a soldier, Hoban is not exactly intimidating. His hair is wispy and his eyes are soft, and he's almost always smiling.
Personality: Something of a joker, taking very little seriously, Wesley is usually the first to crack a joke or make a wise remark and the last to volunteer for any kind of work. Although lazy and a bit of a coward, sometimes faltering in tense or stressful environments, Hoban stands by his superiors and almost always obeys and supports their orders and decisions, even if it goes against protocol. Not that Hoban knows most of it anyway.
Background: Wesley grew up the eldest of three brothers, and the least successful. His grades were lacking, not because of lack of intelligence, but because of a lack of interest. He excelled in anything involving electronics, and simply ignored the rest. Time spent on history papers was better spent, in his opinion, on video games and computers, learning the ins and outs of both. Unfortunately for Wesley, he would later learn that the workforce and advanced educational institutes did not agree.
Unable to gain entry to any remotely-decent schools, and with his parents unable to afford to pay his way, Hoban spent the two years after high school floating from dead-end job to dead-end job. He was barely scraping by and living paycheck to paycheck, wondering which one of his friends he could drop in on unexpectedly and bum a free meal from when he was contacted by a recruiter for the USCM. At first, Wes let the man know he wasn't interested. But after another week of mopping floors at the gas station down the street from his apartment he was beginning to reconsider.
Call after call from debt collectors and the electric company were waking him up every morning. His girlfriend left him for a man she'd just met. The highlight of Hoban's week was his dog getting hit by a car. Devastated though he was, he didn't have a second mouth to feed anymore. It wasn't until after getting fired for showing up late for the umpteenth time and coming home to find out that his one-bedroom hole in the wall didn't have power anymore that he gave the recruiter a call back. From this point on, things would start looking up.
After a year with the marines, though basic training had been difficult for him, Hoban was thriving again. The corps was suiting him just fine. Sure, the food was bad, the work could be hard, and there was no shortage of people to yell at him every time he made a wisecrack, but they had finally sent him off to school to do what he wanted. Work with computers. Despite his poor grades and lack of a college education, the corps had taken note of his aptitude scores and seen a bright future as a comm-tech in store for him. A year later, he'd finally receive an assignment that would take him far, far away from Earth and his boring, meager past.
Also, I don't need an example post if I was with Redds and everyone back in Omega, right?