A/N: This is the edited version. For those of you who read the original version, this won't seem much different, until you get to the old Grif-goof. He's a bit more in-character now.

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The Real Reason Tucker Doesn't Use the Sniper Rifle
Chapter 1: The Observer
Heaven Sent Tenshi

"Remind me why we're out here…" Grif groaned, kicking at a nearby rock. He turned to Simmons as he sighed.

"Sarge asked us to come over here to the caves to establish another base camp to extend our perimeters," the soldier in maroon replied in exasperation.

"Yeah, but why are we doing it? For all we know, the Blues could be waitin' in here, ready to ambush us!"

"We saw all three of the Blues milling around their base; they aren't gonna attack us in here…" Grif scoffed, poking at another rock with his assault rifle as he muttered a few curses beneath his breath. "And I doubt those rocks plan on attacking us either…"

Grif scoffed again, advancing into the cave. "Shove it, Simmons…" The other replied in imitation, following the orange soldier. As they turned a corner, Simmons was surprised to run into his back.

"Ow… Grif, what're you-?" Simmons paused as he peered round his comrade. "Is that…?" Grif nodded, stepping forward, rifle at the ready.

Before the pair was what looked like a lump of flesh and clothing. Blood pooled around the figure as it lay, hunched and unmoving, in something of a crater; the earth looked to have been forced up from its resting place by some unknown force. Grif slowly came upon the figure, rifle outstretched to roll it over. As he approached it, though, a shield sprang to life, crackling and sputtering before phasing out completely. Simmons walked around the crater, crouching down by the lip.

"Odd," he muttered as Grif slid down the three feet to the figure. Slowly, he reached out, rolling the figure onto its back.

"It… it's human… and a woman…" It was impossible to see, but the way he stated this made it known that he was smirking.

"I think she's hurt… bad, too…"

"Yeah, by the looks of it… she might even be… dead…"

"Ya think?"

"I dunno…."

"Well, check her pulse then."

"Yeah, yeah, I was gettin' to that… Jackass…"

"What was that?"

"… I think I feel a pulse."

"That was not what you said."

"Shut up and get down here; help me get her outta this hole."

"Wouldn't it be better if I stayed up here while you hand her up to me…? 'Cuz, y'know, three feet is pretty high."

Grif growled in response, slowly gathering the girl up in his arms and lifting her out of the hole. Carefully, he lay her down upon the ground. Her head turned to face the pair. Her black hair lay matted and splattered with a bit of blood. Her eyes were shut tight and there were many lacerations on her skin including a large wound on her left shoulder. She wore a tan button-front shirt with four pockets on the front, two on her chest and two down by her waist. She also adorned a forest green, pleated skirt, a dark brown belt and a pair of tall, brown boots.

"Uh… what d'ya think we should do with her?" Grif asked, staring at the girl.

"Well, she's breathing… so, we should probably take her back to Red Base."

"Yeah…" Grif watched her a moment before turning to Simmons. "Go ahead."

"Go ahead? Hang on; I didn't say I was gonna carry her back."

"So?"

"You carry her."

"I picked her up to start with."

"So?" Simmons smirked having echoed Grif's own answer back at him.

"So, that means it's your turn."

"Who said we were taking turns?"

"Me. Just pick her up, she isn't that heavy."

"Then you carry her."

"If I carry her, then there'll be no one to protect us if the Blues decide to attack us."

"The Blues aren't going to attack!" Simmons turned to look at the girl as she lay, bleeding on the ground. He sighed before crouching down to lift her into his arms. Rising to his feet again, he was about to tell Grif off when he noticed that the orange soldier was missing. "Oh, he's gonna get it when we get back to Base…" With that note firmly implanted into his mind, Simmons jogged back to Red Base, amusement no where to be found in his presence.

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"She was just… layin' there?" Sarge inquired, studying the girl who had yet to move. She was lying on a steel table inside the red base. Her wounds were covered by cloth bandages and the Reds could do nothing by wait until she awoke.

"Yes, Sir," Simmons replied. "We aren't sure where the crater came from or why we didn't hear or see her arrival."

"I see… Do y'know anything about her?"

"Only that she isn't a soldier. We have yet to find an ID of any kind."

"Hmm…. Ok, good work, Simmons."

"Thank you, Sir."

Grif coughed into his hand, the words "Kiss-ass" barely being filtered out.

"Grif!" Sarge called, causing said soldier to look up. "I'm putting you in charge of watching her. Simmons, I want you to go back out and check on those caves. See if you can figure out where she came from and when she got here."

"Yes, Sir!" Simmons then promptly headed out the door of the base. As Sarge went off to check on the Blues, Grif circled the table.

"Hm…" He turned toward the wall then began to turn circles in his boredom. A moment later, a moan caused him to freeze. Turning about, he noticed that the girl had rolled her head. Her dark green eyes were open as she surveyed the orange man before her.

"Where…?"

"You're awake?" Grif asked, approaching the table. The girl murmured something to the affirmative. "Good. You got a name?"

"Torin… Michelle Torin…"

"Got a rank?"

"A rank…?"

"Military rank."

"… No, I'm… I'm not part of the military…. I… wait, where am I?"

"You're in Blood Gulch Outpost Number 1. It's a military base in The Middle of Nowhere. We found you in the caves near here. Do ya remember how ya got here? And why there's a big crater where ya were…?"

"Huh? I…" Torin paused, slowly sitting up and holding her head. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning; maybe I won't confuse you…. I'm part of a team of Observers. Basically, we watch Halo to be sure the Covenant isn't planning anything… if there are any Covenant members left that is… Personally, I think Command is crazy…"

"I know the feeling…"

Torin smiled before continuing. "My ship had gone in for a closer look… before we were shot down… We were told not to survey this canyon, as it could be dangerous… I suppose your friends on the other side were the reasoning behind that…"

"Ya mean you were on that ship the Blues shot down? That was a week ago!"

"Has it been that long…? I… don't remember too much… but the pilots were shot and killed… I was the only one able to activate a shield… I… I don't think anyone else survived… I leapt from the ship as it neared the ground; I think my shield caused me to bounce because I landed down here… "

"Y'know, there is a hole in the roof of that cave… I saw it when we went in…" Grif crossed his arms as the other looked around her. The room was mostly empty, save for a few strange red marks on the floor and walls.

"Why was I brought here?"

"Huh?" Grif looked over at her. "You were hurt; we brought ya over here to help ya."

"Yes… but why?"

"Uh… you needed help?"

Torin sighed, reaching behind her. She pulled a small black box off of her belt and brought it around front. It was cracked and it sparked as she pressed on of the three buttons on its face.

"What's that?" Grif asked, inspecting the device. Torin looked up.

"It's my shield."

"… Nifty."

"Yeah, I know… it's compact, light-weight, and easy to turn on…" She pressed another button. The resulting shock caused her to shriek and toss the device away. She cradled her hand. "… and now it's broken."

"I could've told ya that…" Grif bent down, picking up the box. "Aw, it can't be that bad… Which one did'ya push?"

"The green one. It's supposed to turn it on… but…"

Grif lifted a finger, pushing the button. "OW!" He tossed it away as well as Torin smirked. "Damnit! That fuckin' hurt!"

"And I could've told you that."

"It doesn't normally do that, does it?"

"Yeah, it's not really my shield; it's actuallya taser with which to torture puny minded creatures."

Grif stared at her blankly for a moment. "Really? 'Cuz that'd be kinda cool."

"No, you idiot; it's broken, didn't you see the crack and the sparks?"

"Well, yeah… I just… never mind."

"I'm hoping that that shock just got to you."

"Yeah… that's it… I'm just disoriented from the shock that little piece of shit just gave me."

"Nah, he's always like that," Sarge murmured, re-entering the room. Grif threw him a dirty glare.

"No I'm not!"

"Yeah ya are, ya pansy."

"Shove it."

"Grif…"

"Shove it, Sir."

"Better."

Torin stared at the two for a moment before retrieving her sparking device from the floor. "And, who might you two be, anyway? I gave you my name, but you," she pointed to Grif, "never gave me yours."

"Oh, yeah… The name's Grif. That's Sarge. He's our Sergeant, more or less…"

"More or less?" Sarge exclaimed, "I'll have you know I've been with this base since the beginning!"

"I… see…" Torin murmured, a blank look on her face.

"So…" Sarge paused, looking back at her. "What was your name?"

"Michelle Torin. I was an Observer on the ship Black Banshee Beta. We were shot down when surveying this canyon."

"It's that ship we saw a week ago, the one the Blues shot down." Grif added.

"That ship?" Sarge inquired, confused.

"Yes," Torin answered, "I think I'm the only one who survived. Otherwise, someone from the ship would have picked up on my signal by now…"

"Wait, signal?" Sarge now sounded a bit suspicious.

"My shield emits an energy pattern recognizable by the main frame computer on my ship. Someone would have come after me by now."

"Then, I guess you're stuck with us, huh?" Grif asked. Once more, the sound of his voice suggested that he was smirking.

"Until I am able to get ahold of Command…"

"Then why not just radio 'em?" Sarge then inquired.

Torin paused. "This is no-man's land when it comes to Command… their radio signals won't reach down onto the surface of Halo… That's why we weren't able to send a distress signal. Unless I'm able to figure out a way around that… I'm trapped down here."

"Well," Sarge began, "that makes things interesting…"

"Would it be too much to ask if I were to stay here?" Torin asked timidly, leaning against the table she had been laying on a few minutes before. "I don't want to get involved in this war, but I really don't want to starve or die of thirst before I get the chance to be rescued."

"Hm… I don't want you distracting Simmons… or Grif, I s'pose…. If ya become a problem, I can't let ya stay here."

"Is… that a yes?" Torin asked. Sarge nodded. Grif, who was still standing beside the girl, murmured his approval beneath his breath as he moved a bit closer to her. "How 'bout I show you around?"

Torin's eyes shifted back to him. "… That… would be very kind of you…" She was unsure of her words. Grif placed a hand on her back as he made to escort her from the room. Suddenly, she gasped in pain and leaned forward on the table, clutching at her left shoulder.

"Oh yeah, forgot about that…"

"About what?" Torin panted.

"Looks like ya got shot in the shoulder. I'm guessin' it was when your ship was goin' down."

"Well, no shit, Sherlock." Slowly, Torin sat upon the table. She took a deep breath. "It didn't get infected, did it?"

"No," Grif replied, "I think what was left of your shield kept the germs out."

"That's good…"

Sarge studied the girl for a moment; judging by how many bandages she had wrapped around her shoulder, her head, her arms and legs, he made a decision. "I'm thinkin' ya shouldn't do much 'til those wounds heal. Grif, don't let her go anywhere and make sure she gets what she needs."

"I'm not gonna be her maid, am I?"

"More like a butler. Any arguments and I'll force ya ta wear that tux."

Grif recoiled. "You wouldn't!"

"I can and I will."

"There's… there's no need for that," Torin stated, rubbing her bandages.

"Well, if yer insistin'… Grif, tell me when Simmons gets back, I've got some business to attend to."

With that, Sarge went out through the same door he'd entered in before.

"Uh…" Grif looked back at Torin, "I guess I've gotta thank ya for that… don't I?"

"No, not really, it was more of a favor to me than to you." Torin smiled, reaching behind her. She produced a silver pistol, having taken it off of her belt. She then pulled the clip out of the pouch on the front of her belt.

"Nice… can I see?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I can't risk wasting my only bullets." Grif scoffed in response. "Besides that, I can't clean it without my kit."

"You clean your pistol?"

"Of course. It'll jam otherwise."

"Well, I guess that explains a couple o'things…"

Torin paused again before continuing. "Um… alright… I'm just gonna check on this then…" She turned away, a look on her face that screamed "Idiot!" as she pulled the action of her pistol back and let loose the one bullet in it. After replacing it, she began to inspecting the clip and the ammunition within it.

"Ok, what's with you?"

"What?"

"You talk all weird. You've got this thing where you switch from formal to normal speech, and frankly, it's gettin' annoying."

"Well, perhaps you should try getting used to it. I was taught to speak in a formal manner while on my ship; that's a difficult thing to… unlearn."

"Yeah, well, that's not how things work around here."

"So I've heard…"

Silence fell over the pair for a moment as Torin turned away. Suddenly, her stomach growled. She blushed, looking away, an arm around her torso.

"I guess I have to get you food, don't I?" Grif asked, his eyes narrowing.

"That would be nice…"

"Anything you want?"

"You… don't have any chicken, or something like that, do you?"

Grif paused. "Yeeeeeeah… no.… We have Oreos."

"… That isn't it, is it?"

"Well, there's that weird green thing at the bottom of the fridge…."

"… I'll go with the Oreos."