Real Name-Samuel Omaras
NickName-Sam (yeah I have little imagination)
SPARTAN Number-4
Type- Medic
Armor Color-Black
Gender-M
Age-17 (thought we woz all supposed to be that age...)
Hair-Blonde
Eyes-Blue
Weapon of Choice-Assault Rifle
Background-he doesn't remember his past. He took a knock to the head whilst leaving to take up his training and can't remember a thing. This causes him to concentrate more on what he remembers from his training though. His only regret is that he didn't take the time to bring at least one picture of his family before he left.

Sam
~~~
I woke up slowly. Dang...my head...Where the hell am I? I don't remember....Why can't I move?
Suddenly I flew out onto the floor. Wouldn't have been THAT bad if I weren't naked and two other people weren't here. Good thing Jenn isn't here, she'd never let me forget this moment.
"errr....where are my clothes....?" I had to speak slowly at first because my mouth wouldn't move properly.
I saw them being handed out to me and I slowly took them and began to get dressed.
"So what's the big deal?" I asked, directing my question to Climax because he was the one mostly likely to have answers.
"There's some new models they want us to train with," he replied.
"They better than the old ones?"
"Yes."
"About bloody time! I don't rightly appreciate almost getting blown up, especially when it lands me in a com,a for a month and completely puts me behind on my training!"
"You caught up didn't you?" asked Warthog, "What's your problem?"
"The problem is, if we're supposed to be the last hope for Earth, why the hell are they giving us suits that are so dangerous!?"
"Enough!" yelled Climax. "It's over now, finished business."
Warthog and I glared at each other. Just my luck to get into a fight right after dethawing from Cryo sleep.
"Listen," said Climax with a tone of urgency, "Help everyone when they wake up and we'll all gather in the conference room. There's something important we need to tell everyone."