His designation was Spartan 379 or at least it was when he was a real soldier. Not used as some lab rat for a project he had no idea existed until ten years ago. He and his CO Spartan 359 were on a simple search and destroy mission when they ambushed by a squad of Elites. Spartan 359 was killed and he had to get out before he too was killed. He got out but was punished for not achieving his objective as well as the death of his Commanding Officer being pinned on him. His punishment was to be sent to an experimental program in order to help them proceed in there studies.

The Programs name was PROJECT FREELANCER

Unfortunately there was a miscommunication between ONI and project freelancer because interested of using him to train their freelancers they sent him to a simulation squad of red team in a piss ant box canyon named blood gulch. This Spartans name now is Dexter Grif. After his transfer he went into disrepair. Some mite say he started too get lazy and started to not give a flying fuck about what was happening. No one knew why Grif was like this or why he didn't care. No one except a naval fighter pilot. Her name was Palmer, Sarah Palmer, his girlfriend. He thought she died in a dog fight. Until one day when a Pelican landed in a canyon on Chorus.

Three months before the UNSC decided to pick up their Spartan to the disbandment of Project Freelancer. They sent him a transmission stating that they would be picking him up as well as two other individuals. According to the others he started to act strange well strange to the others any way Grif started to work out lose wait take orders from wash and do his drills and training routine and generally build mussel. When it was a week into to his training Grif had lost 34 pounds. In his first month he lost 100 pounds and was trying to maintain his current wait of 232 pounds. After two months he gained 20 pounds. But not of fat no of cold hard mussel. In his third month he was fit enough to take out a Hunter with his bare hands. 6 weeks into this whole ordeal Simon walks up to Grif with some questions.

"Grif why are you acting so strange lately?" Simon's his squad mate in maroon armor asked. In between doing push-ups Grif responded.

"What…You…Mean…Simon's?"

"Well in the last few months you have been working cleaning and taking care of your armor and weapons to the point at which they function beyond perfect. You never used to do that. It's just weird to see you take an extremely good care of yourself is all." Simon's responded. Grif went ahead and stopped his work out.

"I get it man, but think about it man. We are on a planet we have no knowledge of. We have no idea of what type of wildlife there is or if there are any hostile sentient life forms. So what else an I going to so in order to make sure that I as well as my squad survive this ordeal." Grif said

"Oh do mind if I join you? Simons asked.

"Sure the more the merrier. It will also give me a work out partner."

From then on Simon's worked out with, trained with, and did maintenance on gear with Grif. Once Sarge saw what was going on he decided to join in. So the whole Red Squad was looking better than ever from a physical, psychological, and equipment stand point. They started to look more like a team and an actual military unit rather than some piss ant simulation squad.