Private Grey ran down the shell-shocked field toward a Covenant plasma turret. The turret was currently engaging a fleet of warthogs, so it had no reason to notice a lone marine running across the field. With a little luck, he would be able to take out the turret and save those hogs before the Covies noticed he was there. Unfortunately, when he dove for cover from a wraith's plasma ball into a crater, his pistol went off, the magnum round booming across the battlefield. "Shit." He muttered. Grey poked his head over the top of the crater, and three blue balls flew past his head. Ducking quickly, he grasped at his web belt and pulled a frag grenade out of it's pouch. "Eat this."
The Elite who was in charge of the gun emplacement saw the human duck into the hole and fired three shots at him half-heartedly. Then he turned back to directing the grunts manning the guns. The Jackal standing next to him squawked and the Elite whirled around to see a small green sphere hit the ground two feet away. The grenade ripped the Jackal, Elite, and two grunts busy setting up another turret to bloody shreds.
Grey grinned. Judging by the screams, the grenade had landed exactly where it was supposed to. He unslung his rocket launcher and stood up. The two remaining Shades turned to face him, but Grey had already fired his rockets, and ducked to shove another load in. Pieces of turret and Grunt flew everywhere, and he knew that nothing could have survived that. He slung his rocket launcher around his shoulder, and grabbed his pistol from his belt before clambering up onto the gutted turret emplacement. He went around and poked a few bodies, but nothing moved. Grey pulled a small UNSC battle standard from his field pack, and tied it to a piece of twisted metal sticking into the air. He was about to sheath his pistol, when something tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, and a golden armored Elite roared an alien battle cry. Grey duck the first swing of the alien's sword, and fired three rounds from his pistol. They slammed into the Elite's shields, and Elite growled, before swinging his sword horizontally at Grey's waist. Grey kicked the alien in the torso, causing him to drop the sword. Before the Elite could recover, he fired five rounds into the Elite's chest, causing his shields to fail. The Elite pulled a plasma rifle from his belt and fired a burst at Grey, hitting him in the left arm, before Grey fired the last three rounds in the gun at the Elite's head. The magnum rounds did what they were supposed to, punching through the alien's helmet like rice paper. In a stream of rich purple blood, the Elite fell screaming to the ground.
Grey slipped a new clip into his pistol, and pulled his radio off of his belt. Since he was wearing a boonie hat, he had to carry his radio separately. "This is Private Grey. I've taken the Covenant turret redoubt. Killed an elite in hand to hand, and need medical assistance." "Roger that, warthog group gamma is en-route, they have a medic." "Thanks HQ."
Grey stuffed the radio back into it's pouch, and sat down on the dead elite to wait for the warthogs. He could see their dust clouds in the distance, and heard the occasional LAAG gunning down some unseen enemy. He gripped his pistol tightly, in case another alien should appear unannounced. The silhouettes of the warthogs grew steadily, and Grey stood and fired three shots into the air, announcing his presence to the marines in the warthogs.
The 'hogs pulled up a few minutes later, and Grey ran up to meet one. It was black with a yellow stripe down the hood, and sported a heavy SPNKR rocket launcher in place of the usual LAAG chain gun. The Lieutenant riding shotgun lowered his battle rifle and beckoned Grey over. "So you're the man who took this hill single-handedly?" he said. Grey nodded. "Yes sir, I guess I am." "Thanks a lot marine, you saved my platoon's asses when you took out those Shades. Our rocket launcher was low on ammo, thanks to an overeager wraith blowing up our supply 'hog, so I wasn't sure we'd be able to kill it. Until you came along. Colonel Dietrich tells me you killed an Elite in hand to hand combat? That's certainly something." Grey nodded. "Yes sir, the golden bastard popped out from under a dead body and almost gutted me with his sword." This left the Lieutenant wide-eyed. "It was a gold one?! With a sword? And you killed him? You're something else, let me tell you that. I'm recommending to Colonel Dietrich that you get a medal for this." "What sir?" The marine behind the wheel looked up in shock, as did the one manning the rocket launcher. "Well, for saving our platoon, and killing that elite single-handedly, that's what!" Grey looked at him incredulously. "But sir, that's my job." The Lieutenant just stared at him, like he was off his rocker. "So you're refusing a commendation for bravery?" "No sir, I'm just reminding the Lieutenant that it's the job of any marine to do, or at least to attempt to do, what I have done today." And with that, Grey saluted and walked off to see the medic.
Captain Vance walked into the outpatient room, toward the only occupied bed. "Well, Private…Grey. You seem to have banged up your arm pretty good. It'll be okay, and we'll have you home to REACH in no time. Grey looked up. "What?" Vance's grin faded slightly. "I said you're going home. As soon as we do a few more calcium injections, to replace the bone loss from where the plasma bolts cut into your arm. I'm surprised you're in this ward. Normally a plasma burst to the arm requires months of regrowth, but you've healed in less than a week. In fact, I remember-" "I don't wanna go home." Grey said. "Excuse me? Private, you've done your duty. Destroying a Covenant artillery battery single-handedly, and killing one of their field marshals; I assure you no one will think less of you if you accept a ticket home." "No, send someone else home. I saw someone in the next ward with a needler wound on his leg. Send him home, not me." Vance stepped back a few feet. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Sergeant Marshall's condition is such that he can still be used in his current duty, but if you can't hold a gun, you can't be in the marines Private." "You said it yourself. I healed faster than anyone you've ever seen before." Vance paused to process that. "Yes that's true, but there are still some more injections and other-" ""Fine, then do them. But don't send me home afterwards. Send me back to the line." Vance stated flatly. "I can't do that. You can't fire a gun." Grey rolled his eyes. "Look doc, make me a deal. After I'm done here, I go to a firing range, and have an instructor give me a complete re-examination of my weapons skills. If I don't get a perfect score on all of them, I'll go home, okay?" Vance thought about it. "Well…" "Look doc, what have you got to lose? If I go home, you completed a successful operation. If I go back to the line, than you completed a successful operation and helped the UNSC's need for more soldiers." Vance shook Grey's hand. "Deal. But don't tell anyone about this, I could be court marshaled." "Okay doc."
Vance walked away smiling again. There was no way that Grey would ever pass his weapons test with a perfect score in all categories. So it was a win-win situation. He pushed open the door to the outpatient ward and walked down the hall toward the break room.
The target range was inside the base's armory, a double walled structure to prevent destruction due to accidental ordinance detonation. Corporal Grey (He had been promoted for taking the Covenant artillery post) walked down the halls of the vast armory, past rooms containing rows upon rows of BR-55 rifles, M-7 submachine guns, shotguns, SPNKR rocket launchers, S-2 sniper rifles, and various kinds of pistol all lined up neatly in stainless steel racks against the wall. He walked through a door marked Target Range, and emerged inside a gargantuan room with rows of trenches and weapons racks on the wall behind them. On the far side were various shaped targets, staggered at different distances and representing different things. Some were the standard red and white bulls-eye, some were human shaped for training MPs, but most of them were cardboard cutouts of various members of the covenant race, ranging from grunts to hunters (with the weak points in their armor marked in bright red) and even some drones hanging from the ceiling. Grey saw a handful of marines practicing their marksmanship, mostly against the hunter targets. The sniper boxes on the second floor were unoccupied.
Grey walked over to the Sergeant in charge of the range. "Sir, Corporal Grey reporting for a complete re-examination of my marksmanship skills." The Sergeant grabbed a clipboard sitting on a shelf and flipped through the pages. "Grey, Grey, ah yes Corporal Grey! You're got the go-ahead to use this facility all week, and my aide will assist you in taking down your scores." Without looking up from his clipboard, he gestured absently to a man standing over a trench full of marines, yelling obscenities that would have made an ODST blush and occasionally swatting at them with a swagger stick. "Joy." Muttered Grey. "Hmm? Didn't catch that." The Sergeant said, flipping through some charts and marking down notes every so often. "Nothing sir. I'll be glad to have the assistance of-" "Sergeant Duncan." The man said. Setting down the clipboard, he cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, "Hey Duncan! Get your ass over here!" A look of disappointment flashed over Duncan's face, and he jogged over to the two men, swagger stick under his left arm. "Gunnery Sergeant Duncan, this is Corporal Grey. He is here to take a complete re-do of his weapons skills. And you'll be assisting him in that endeavor." Duncan moaned. "Aww Sarge, come on! The little war hero can do it himself!" he said, gesturing to the Navy Cross on Grey's uniform. The senior Sergeant's face turned red, and he wheeled around to face Duncan. "I gave you an order marine! You are to help this man complete his weapons testing, and then you are to report back to me with his scores! DO YOU GET ME?!?!?!" Duncan instinctively snapped to a salute. "Sir yes sir!" "Good! Now, take this chart and fill in his scores as he completes each course." Duncan grabbed the chart and led Grey to the pistol range, mumbling something about uppity Drill Instructors. A voice boomed from across the range. "Did I give you permission to bitch marine?" Duncan turned around to yell a reply. "Sir no sir!"
The pistol range was on the far side of the room, furthest from the door Grey had entered from. Duncan checked the clipboard. "All right Corporal, you nee to re-qualify with the M6C and M6D pistols. You'll find a rack of them on the wall, and some extra ammo in the bin to your right." Grey walked over to the wall, and grabbed one pistol from each rack. He marched back to the concrete barrier separating the firing pits from the target range itself, and flicked the safety off of the M6D. Grey assumed a three-point stance, and rapidly expended all 12 rounds in the weapons clip. He stepped back, and set the weapon down on the table in front of him. Duncan rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever." He said, slamming his fist on the button to bring the cardboard cutout within view. Grey had been using a hunter target, and every single shot had hit one of the red streaks marking a flap of exposed skin in a real hunter's armor. Duncan sighed and marked down a perfect score on his clipboard. Grey quickly repeated the feat with the M6C. By now Duncan was hefting the guns to see if Grey had cheated somehow. "All right Corporal, next up is the BR-55 range. Take a weapon from the rack in the back, there's extra ammo in the box to your right." Grey picked up a Battle Rifle, and grabbed two extra clips from the box. Duncan read something from his sheet. "Okay, you will expend one clip of ammunition standing and unzoomed, and then you will expend another clip prone and zoomed. Got that?" Grey nodded. He stepped up to the firing pit, and aimed his rifle at a bulls-eye nearby.
36 bullets later, their was one large hole in the bulls eye, and Grey was slapping in another clip for his prone test. He flicked the switch on the side of the rifle, and everything jumped forward several feet. Duncan was yelling at him to aim for the bulls-eye in front of him, and Grey shallowed his breathing, so as not to make the rifle jump from a deep breath. He fired off all twelve bursts in rapid succession, and when the gunpowder dissipated, he could see that all 36 bullets had landed inside the little circle. Grey pushed himself up from the dirt, and walked over to Duncan, who was shaking his head in amazement. "Uh, okay Corporal. Next is the shotgun course. You are to crawl through a ditch with four LAAGs firing over your head, and then destroy all of the targets at the end in less than a minute. Shotguns are against the wall, and extra ammo is in the bin to your right." Grey grabbed a shotgun, and took a small satchel of extra shells. Duncan waved him to a trench that had been liberally splashed with blood, and was filled with old ammo cases, discarded MA5Bs, the occasional helmet and even some mockups of covenant weaponry. All in all, a pretty accurate description of what a battlefield looks like. As soon as Grey's chin hit the mud, the LAAGs started pounding away overhead, and as he crawled through the mud, Grey was reminded of that time he was doing this exact same thing, except for real.