(A/N): This is my first real time doing a fanfic like this. I accept constructive criticism and I couldn't care less about flames. :p Most(if not all) A/Ns will be at the end of the chapter from here on out. Rated T for a reason!

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo. I'm just a fan, sadly…

Year: 2563

The hum of the Blackhole's engines filled its lower levels, destroying any possible void of silence. Even with my helmet on, the buzz was incredibly loud. I had gone down there looking for some time away from the boring and action-less life I now led. I looked down at the glistening, newly polished steel floors of the ship and grunted. The Blackhole hadn't gotten to see much of the war, not like I had either. She'd been a new model getting ready to be sent to the front just as the war came to a close. Similar to my story, believe it or not. I was eighteen at the time, full of fire and enthusiasm to fight the damn Covies…but, much to my disappointment, the war ended, not even allowing me so much as one battle against our enemies.

It's been ten years since then, as difficult as that is to believe. I'm now 28 and the Blackhole is on her tenth. After the Human-Covenant War ended, things seemed to calm down a bit. Sure, there were the occasional disputes between the former Covies and the humans, but other than that things were fine. The humans began rebuilding and are pretty stable right now. The Insurrectionists seem to have settled down too, for the time being. Nothing is really happening anymore…and that's exactly my problem. Us SPARTAN IIIs and IVs have become the equivalent of an average policeman and are being sent on pointless missions that require no special skills or tactics whatsoever.

I leaned up against a trembling wall casually, folding my heavily shielded arms across my chest. No doubt someone will be coming down soon to inform me of another one of our "missions", I thought bitterly, sending a heated glare at the floor. What did they think us SPARTANs would do after the war? Become average civilians? I chuckled to myself, knowing the irony behind that statement. We were SPARTANs now. There wasn't just some 'off' switch to that somewhere. It's not that we don't want to be normal and lead calm, quiet lives – it's that we can't. I closed my dark, chocolate brown eyes and let out a deep sigh. You aren't exactly promised an easy, or long, life as a SPARTAN.

Clank, clank, clank, clank…

The sound of SPARTAN armor joined the engines in noise-making. They quickly entered the room and stopped in front of me. Slowly, I opened my eyes and lifted my head questioningly. To my surprise, my friend and team mate, Erika-D056, stood in front of me, a hand on her hip. "It took my forever to find you, Sai." She huffed, in mock complaint. I smiled behind my frost visor. It was always good to see her. Even though she was fully outfitted in her SPARTAN armor, I still found her to be attractive. Her blue visor, though basic, matched her cyan and orchid armor perfectly. Her recon armor gave her a tough, yet feminine look that shows off her personality. I couldn't help but stare at her.

Straightening up, she said in a formal tone,"D049, you are needed in the Conference Room on the upper levels." I gave off a smirk, despite her not being able to see it. I then nodded and stood up to my full height in armor of 7'0", about three inches taller than her. "Do I have the pleasure of an escort?" I asked, jokingly. Erika stifled a laugh and replied,"What? Have you not been here long enough to find it on your own?" I gave her my best nonchalant shrug and said,"Apparently not." Though I couldn't tell, I knew she was rolling her light hazel eyes at me. She shook her head in mock disapproval. "You should be demoted, D049…" She then turned on her heel and began walking off, going up the few stairs that led to an inner hallway of the Blackhole. "C'mon, big guy."

I began following her fleeting form, deciding to take my time. I was sure that whatever I was needed for wasn't urgent. Usually when we held meetings they were about something insignificant, such as a small robbery. Then again, it could just be the Commander returning from a meeting with a few other SPARTAN teams. I strode up the stairs, my armor clanking obnoxiously with each step. "Hurry up, D049!" Erika called from somewhere further down the hallway. I chuckled lightly. She was always so impatient with me. I skillfully wound my way through the weaving halls of the Blackhole, eventually reaching the Conference Room, where Erika stood outside the door, tapping her foot. Upon seeing me, she spread her arms out in a way that made her look like a giant bird ready to attack me. "Well it's about time, D049! If you had been even a minute later I would've had you sent back to basic training!" She cried out, kidding around.

I grinned at her as she motioned hurriedly for me to go in. The advanced doors swung open automatically, revealing the large room within. The only thing inside was a large, white, oval table, some chairs, and the rest of our SPARTAN team, Team Hawk. That probably explains Erika's strange bird imitation earlier. Mari-C325 and Ryan-D207 sat on the right side of the table, while Nigel-D108 and Daniel-D223 sat on the left. At the head of the long table sat the Commander, Mitchel-C420, who was preoccupied with an AI that I was unfamiliar with. Erika-D056 darted across the room and took a seat next to Mari as if Mitchel were holding a Needler and was taking aim. That actually could have been her reason for moving so swiftly…

Just as she sat down, the AI left the room and Mitchel's full attention was now solely on me. His cold, merciless eyes pierced through his blindside visor as he stared at me. "Take a seat, D049." The Commander said in a harsh voice that turned the air into a thick fog of tension. I walked over to a seat next to Daniel, a friend of mine, and sat, not even flinching. Mitchel took in a deep breath and turned his icy gaze from me, beginning to speak again. "As you all know, I've been away for a few weeks on a business trip," a few of the team nodded acknowledgement. "That trip was about our team, specifically…" The air became choked once again as everyone guessed the more pessimistic possibilities. Nervous glances were passed around the room before the Commander cleared his throat to regain our attention.

"Have any of you ever heard of the FFS?" He asked, looking at each of us in question. When no one responded, he gave a light sigh and continued. "The FFS…are a group of SPARTANs, multiple teams, united under a common cause; to allow SPARTANs free choice in their lives." He glanced around the room, making sure everyone was paying attention. "Meaning they want to separate from the ONI and UNSC…" I heard someone gasp, although most of the others seemed fairly calm about the news. "They have personally asked for our team's assistance, but I did not want to make a decision without your opinions first." A few of the team seemed relieved we hadn't signed up for anything just yet, as this kind of thing would be seen as treason.

Mitchel began again,"The FFS goal is to win the war and create a new colony where the species is predominantly SPARTAN, as we wouldn't fit in with ordinary humans. More of a…a sort of civilian SPARTAN." Civilian SPARTAN, huh? That would definitely be interesting. My eyes drifted to Erika-D056, who sat in her chair thoughtfully. A place where she could finally be safe from the gore-covered clutches of war, where we could be together with nothing and no one to stand in our way. But…before that…we'd all be in danger of a new war, and this time against our own kind. This would be my team's first time as a whole on the battlefield. If the FFS lost, though, while we were on its side, the consequences would be severe. Exile, torture, maybe even execution! But if we stayed on the side off the UNSC and ONI, Erika and I may never get a chance at true happiness.

I must have been too deep in thought because the next thing I knew we were voting. "…all in favor of remaining loyal to the UNSC and ONI raise your hand." Mitchel's voice cut a jagged line through my mind as I snapped back into reality. Only two of seven raised their hands; Mari and Nigel. It was clear where the choice was. Our risk was huge and the possible punishments for failure were devastating, but it was for a better future for the SPARTAN race.

Our war begins here.

A/N: Done! Like I said before, flames and constructive criticism are both accepted. :)