Gene Status: Original
Bio: I was born on Earth about thirty years ago. People always ask, "But where are you from?" Earth, dammit. Just Earth. I wasn't a soldier back home, would never have imagined I'd be one now, but nobody gave me a choice. They just gave me a gun.
Now, I can't imagine what else I would be. I go where I'm told to go, shoot what I'm told to shoot, and jump on every chance to clone myself that Command gives me. I won't live real long - none of us do, medics and armor and hospitals can only do so much - but the only thing that keeps me going is knowing that even if I die, some other soldier with my genes will be out there fragging the goddamned crusties. Maybe, if we're all really lucky, one of us Stilwaters will see Earth again, someday.
High Command requested that we file reports on our activities from time to time, particularly us receptives. Trying to figure out how this alien Logos stuff is affecting us, I suppose. I don't worry about it much. I'll report my activites - I do anyway, but what's a little more paperwork, anyway? I'll even report my "feelings." Right now I'm feeling like shooting some crusties.