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The One Drafted Man

no cash prizes in this lottery

Name:
Grif
External Services:
  • Slartimus AIM status
  • slaarti@gmail.com
Name: GRIF, Dexter
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Affiliation: UNSC Army SPARTAN Corps, seconded to ONI Section One
Born: [DATE UNKNOWN], Honolulu, Hawaii

Dexter Grif lives in the 34th century, but was born in the 26th. In his home time, humanity had just escaped annihilation by a superior alien force collectively known as the Covenant, and proceeded immediately to fall into a civil war that, to some eyes, seemingly had no reason. When one side found itself short by one man, a draft was held -- an unusual event, never before needed in the 400 years since the formation of the United Nations Space Command, which has not been needed in the 800 years since -- and Grif was the not-so-lucky winner. For this, his name received a brief spate of fame on the headlines of the time, and a minor footnote in the annals of human history as the One Drafted Man. Grif himself, meanwhile, received a mandatory all-expenses paid trip to Basic Training and the SPARTAN-II super-soldier augmentation procedures. His first and only posting has been to the Red Army base at Blood Gulch, a box canyon on a world at one of the farthest reaches of human-occupied space.

In his time at Blood Gulch, Grif has been nearly killed by being run over by a tank, kept alive by a combination of inept transplant surgery and his armor's life-support systems, been sucked into a time warp -- which is how he arrived in the 34th century in the first place -- and found a way into a multiversal Nexus. For at least the last year, he has been the only soldier still officially listed as being stationed at Blood Gulch. The civil war that brought him into the UNSC has long since been over, but due to a centuries-old glitch in the Command computer systems that would cost too much to get fixed, his records are frozen such that he can't be discharged or transferred. Left alone and unsupervised with interdimensional teleportation capabilities, Grif has spent his time as he sees fit: running his business (originally founded in the 26th century to provide for the younger sister he had to leave behind; it has since grown to be a minor but successful galaxy-spanning enterprise in the time he was gone); exploring Earths that have been overrun by zombies (and looting their liquor stores); meeting other people and lending the skills he has accumulated to helping them out; seeking out medical help capable of restoring him to the health he had before the tank ran him over; forming for himself a sort of family with similarly displaced people from around the multiverse (see shenanigans_pa).

As far as he'd been concerned, Command had chosen to forget about him, as long as he doesn't try to run away, and that was just fine with him. However, UNSC Command has, by way of the Office of Naval Intelligence, recently informed Dexter Grif that they very much remember the One Drafted Man, and have watched his actions most intently. His troubles... may only be beginning.

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