Man, that last chapter was really short. Or at least it felt rushed. I apologize for that and I might go back and fix it sometime (probably not though). So now we're going into Act II of my story, if that's what you wanna call it.


Chapter Seven: A Position…

June 2, 2549 10:50 Hours

UNSC Ironclad

Grey was sitting in his private quarters. The captain had kindly given Grey a private room, knowing that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. It was a small room with a bed, a desk, a table and some other furniture decorated the room. It wasn't a five star hotel room, but it was better than the overcrowded barracks.

Grey had seated himself at the table which was next to the only window in the private quarters. His broken arm was in a sling and multiple bandages covered his bare chest and arms. The wounds on his legs were hidden by a pair of cargo pants and his fractured ankle was wrapped up. It was cold in the room and the chilliness nipped at his bare feet.

Troopers and ODSTs would come by every so often, expressing gratitude and offering their condolences. Everyone had heard about the loss of the Spartans and Grey's team. They felt they owed him their lives; they viewed him as a hero.

Needless to say, Grey didn't care what they called him. But he appreciated the peoples' words when they came by. Even some of the civilians had stopped by. A young lady had given Grey a small vase of flowers for the table. Grey was brushing one of the red pedals with his index finger as his eyes drifted to the window. He stared out at space and the distant stars.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." a man dressed in half civilian attire, half UNSC armor, entered the quarters. Grey looked the man up in down. "I know you…"

"I'm Harold Stevenson. I'm the holo-journalist who took that picture of you and your team on Piltran when the operation took off." Stevenson pulled up a chair and looked at Grey for a moment.

"Glad you made it, Stevenson."

"I wish the same could be said for your team. They gave their lives to protect us. I'm sorry they're gone." Grey nodded and turned his attention back to space. Stevenson sighed sadly. "I was finally able to develop the holo-still of your team." He pulled the item from his pocket and slid it across the table to Grey's side. "I know your team wanted to have it…especially that girl." Grey closed his eyes for a moment, letting images of Delilah flash through his mind like a slideshow.

Stevenson stood up and started to leave.

"Stevenson." He stopped at the door and looked back at Grey. "Thank you." Stevenson smiled and left.

Grey remembered hoping that the team would live enough to see this picture. He shook his head and looked at the picture.

Tears started to roll down Grey's face. In the holo-still, Blue Team was posing in front of the Scorpion. Everyone had their helmets off. Albert was furthest to the right with his hands behind his back. He stood straight and tall. There was a look of pride on his face but there was no smile.

Delilah and Grey were standing a little bit away from Albert. They were standing as close as they could together. Delilah was smiling beautifully with her head leaning towards Grey. They were holding hands. Grey looked at himself in the picture; he had a small smile on his face. He had just been happy to be holding Delilah's hand.

Taylor had his arm resting on Grey's shoulder and stood with one leg crossed over the other. He was grinning at the camera. The rocket launcher he had always carried was attached to his back. Nick, Amad and Ivan were crouched in front of Grey and Delilah. They had their arms on each other's shoulders and they had wide smiles on their faces.

Grey put the picture down and slid it away from him. He couldn't look at it any longer.

There was another knock on the door. Grey quickly cleaned his face. "Come in." A colonel walked in. Grey went to stand up and salute, but the colonel shook his hand.

"Stay seated." He said. "I'm Colonel Adrian Samson." The colonel spoke with an accent. His clean uniform had a dozen medals and ribbons attached to it. Samson had sharp features. He had jet black hair and equally dark eyes. His skin was slightly pale.

Samson walked over slowly and sat down. "I'm sorry about your team, Greyson. They were some of the best Spartans to have ever served in the UNSC." He said. Grey raised an eyebrow in suspicion. No one outside of the Spartans and his unit was supposed to know his name.

"I prefer Grey, sir. And thank you, I appreciate you coming in here." Samson nodded and looked at Grey for a moment. Grey was used to newcomers looking at him with doubt filled eyes that judged him too quickly. That was usually when he was in his armor though. Samson had an understanding look in his eyes. But another part of Grey told him that there was an opportunist behind those eyes.

"I've heard a bit about you." Samson finally said. Again, not something that someone I don't know should be saying to me. "From what I've gathered, you seem to be the best Spartan to appear from Beta Company."

"I don't mean to question rank sir, but how do you know that?" Samson smiled slowly, a bold slick smile.

"I'm in charge of SpecWar Group Two. I'm also an officer of ONI. I have ways to gather intelligence, my boy." Grey nodded slowly. "I understand that you are now without a unit."

"Yes sir…" Grey growled. Samson saw the anger flare in Grey's eyes and cleared his throat.

"Well, I have a position opened up in Group Two, if you're interested." The pain would probably never leave him, but Grey knew that he was a Spartan and it was hid duty to serve the UNSC. And whatever the position was, it was better than rotting away in a med-bay or on some other colony world that was going down the drain.

"Give me the overview, sir."

"You'd be mainly running solo, stealth ops on the colony of Mamore." Coulda just said black ops… "Your objectives may be slightly different than the ones given to you when you were fighting the Covenant. Hostage rescue, search and destroy, HVT extraction, simply thinning numbers and things like that." Samson leaned forward, folding his arms together. "You'd be fighting rebels, boy."

Grey blinked a few times. He had been trained to fight Covenant and there had been talk of dealing with rebels from time to time but nothing had ever really happened. Could I really kill a human being? Grey didn't know where he'd be sent once he was healed up. Maybe this position wouldn't last too long. Maybe he wouldn't have to actually shoot a human. Grey knew the only way he could actually take his mind off his deceased team would be doing his job.

"Well, sir, considering my current situation I guess I could take the position."

"Good!" Samson beamed. But the smile left, remembering Grey's recent experience. "Good…all I have to do is pull some paperwork and you'll be a part of Group Two. I'm promoting you to lieutenant too." Samson stood up and shook Grey's hand. "Thank you for accepting. I thought that Alpha Company had finished off the rebels in 2537, but they've returned stronger than ever. I don't have a suitable amount of resources and troops to counter the rebel threats on Mamore. With you there the situation will probably be resolved rather shortly." Grey nodded and smiled at the colonel who respectfully decided to leave.

Grey looked back out the window, pondering if he made the right choice.