Chapter 1

Fred wanted to frown. He was told that he and the remaining Spartan-IIs would be briefed on their next assignment by a team of admirals, but he was expecting Admiral Hood to be presiding. The SPARTAN project was public now, and had been for a long time; Fred imagined that they would be briefed for public operations, such as peacekeeping in the post-war reconstruction. With military tech and arms widely available, it was only a matter of time that surviving Insurrectionists would decide to strike while the iron was hot.

Instead, he, Kelly, Linda, Mendez, Tom, Lucy and Ash were in a capital ship called the Infinity. And judging by the amount of security they had gone through, it was obvious that the ship was cutting edge UNSC tech, and still very much owned by the Office of Naval Intelligence.

As they saying went, it was the little things in life, and every single little thing set Fred on edge. While everyone wore UNSC uniforms, they were devoid of badges. No campaign ribbons, medals earned, or even name tags; the only insignia they carried was of their rank. ONI had said they summoned the last remaining Spartan-IIs and –IIIs, but Naomi was strangely absent; Fred had last seen her at the memorial service, along with Serin, who was with them, but sitting on the other side of the table; she was even less of a Spartan more than ever.

Another thing that rubbed Fred wrong was that Dr. Halsey was nowhere to be found. While she was technically a civilian, she always made it a point to visit them whenever she possibly could. Usually that would manifest on shore leaves, or most mission briefings where they were summoned to talk to the top brass before a massive operation.

But what truly scared Fred was how perfect everything seemed to be to the admirals. The secrecy was normal for them. They glided through the security checkpoints, not even blinking when ordered to surrender their equipment to the MPs. Everything was handled professionally, crisply, and utterly coldly, like they were cogs in a greater machine. Everything seemed to be planned to a T, which is what scared Fred the most. He knew how fast a perfect looking situation could turn into the perfect cluster fuck. He buried the urge to frown even deeper, just in case it leaked out onto his face.

He did risk a quick glimpse at Kelly and Linda, though. The tiny movement would be lost on a regular human, but for a Spartan, the action stood out. The three traded looks, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. After spending their entire lives together, they knew how to read each other like a book. Even Mendez was able to pick up the motion, having trained them since they were children.

It was less certain for the SPARTAN-IIIs standing next to Fred. Tom, Lucy and Ash were standing ramrod straight, just as he was, but they were shorter than he was, as tall as a regular human. The slight movement of his head was lost on them. Fred wondered how they were taking everything. Lucy was mute, only breaking her silence when she snapped and knocked Dr. Halsey out when they were trapped in the pocket world of Onyx. She was talking more, but in broken, fractured ways. Tom was brimming with anger whether he knew it or not, and Ash seemed to be utterly blank. As a third generation SPARTAN-III, he was suffering from enhanced aggression, but with the medication he was receiving, he seemed too placid.

Fred wondered how Kurt could change his soldiers so much. Enhanced aggression? It seemed like a good thing to have, but not when it would compromise a soldier's mental stability.

"I'd imagine that you would very much like to know why you are here, Lieutenant," an admiral said. Fred could detect a slight smile on her face, almost as if she enjoyed playing with him. She was definitely ONI.

"That would be very much appreciated, Admiral."

"You are here because of your invaluable experiences. Not just you, Lieutenant, but the rest of your Spartans as well. You are all property of the UNSC, and we still need your help."

"Ma'am, if I may, are we to start policing against possible Insurrectionists again?"

"The Insurrectionists? Good Heavens, no. While they are undoubtedly a problem, we believe that you do not need to worry yourself with them."

"Then how may we serve?"

"You are here to help finish training for the Spartan-IV project, Lieutenant," the admiral said with a smile. "You and the rest of your Spartans will become trainers, ensuring the completion of the project."

Suddenly Fred wanted to frown more so than ever.

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Such a gentleman." Fred almost flinched. "Granted."

"You said 'finish training.' Do we have the right to assume you've already began?"

"Smart, too, just what I've expected from Dr. Halsey's project. Yes, they have already began training, and have recently finished the augmentation process."

"May I ask how the procedure went?"

"It went perfectly. No fatalities."

This time Fred did react. In his peripheral vision, he saw Kelly and Linda trade small looks of surprise.

"Your science teams found ways to perfect the procedure?"

"Of sorts. I'd imagine the Spartan-IIIs would be more familiar with our procedures than you, Lieutenant."

"You used a different procedure?" Fred frowned.

"One vastly superior to Dr. Halsey's barbaric tinkering's. And this time on willing adults."

So they aren't real Spartans, Fred thought.

The admiral keyed an intercom. "Send in the Captain."

One of the doors to the auditorium opened, and a man walked in. He was tall, but not Spartan tall, just over six feet, and was heavily muscular, even in his dress uniform. He walked with an air of power, confidence and even swagger, his hair cut to very ends of regulation length. To Fred, he looked like an ODST.

"Captain Michael Virmire reporting," he saluted.

"Captain, meet Lieutenant Fredric," the admiral said. "The Captain here is the chief officer of the Spartan-IVs."

"It's an honor, sir," Michael said.

"Likewise," Fred mouthed.

"You will begin training tomorrow. Everyone is expecting the very best you have to offer."

"Ma'am," Fred saluted.

"You're still hung up on Halsey, aren't you," Serin said as they walked down the corridor of ONI command.

"I know you don't like her, but she was the creator of the program. We need her know-how," Fred crisply replied.

"Do you know where she is?" Kelly asked. Fred was shocked that she would ask such a thing. It was no secret that Dr. Halsey was the mother figure to the Spartans, but their affection was never publicly displayed.

"As a Captain in the Office of Naval Intelligence, I can assure you I don't know where she is." Serin could have fooled herself.

"Good to know we have friends in high places," Linda said.

"Cool it, everyone," Fred snapped, stopping on his heel. "We don't have Dr. Halsey, but we have her notes. We need to put her loss behind us and move on, and I don't want anyone pulling hair over this."

"Understood, sir," Linda said.

"I'll keep things as professional as your soldiers," Serin promised.

"Good," Fred said. "Serin, do you have any information on John?"

"The Master Chief is still MIA," she said. "We've seen neither hide nor hair of him since the Forward Unto Dawn split in Slipspace. He's assumed KIA."

He, Kelly, Linda and Mendez looked at each other. They still didn't believe it. Lucy, Tom and Ash did; they never knew the Chief.

"Okay Spartans, you heard the lady. The Master Chief is missing in action for the foreseeable future. Get it out of your heads that he'll be riding out of the sunset to meet us, we've got a job to do. And Serin? Thank you."

"I'll let you know if anything changes," she said, walking away.

"It's a good thing us Spartans never die," Linda said.

"Yea, we only go missing in action," Kelly added.

No one was talking. The tension was palpable, but Fred wasn't willing to break it. Instead he was content to simply suiting up, preparing for the training. Normally it would take a small team of engineers to suit up a Spartan, but after spending years in their Mjolnir armor, it was second nature. Kelly finished first, not to anyone's surprise. She was the fastest, even without trying. She stood, holding her helmet, waiting for Fred, Linda and the Spartan-IIIs to finish.

Tom was next to finish, followed quickly by Lucy and Ash. Instead of wearing Mjolnir armor, they suited in in their SPI armor. Lighter, weaker, and built for stealth instead of fighting, it was easier for them to put on.

Even when they finished, there was no talking. Fred didn't like it. Everyone had something to say, he could feel it, but no one wanted to say it. Either that, or they were waiting for him. Fred wished John was here. He would know what to say.

"Feelings?" He finally said.

"I don't like this," Kelly said, cutting Linda off before she had time to speak her first syllable. "These Spartan-IVs aren't like us. They're more Orion, like Chief Mendez. I've always though the Orion project was mostly a failure."

"A failure only in the brass' number games," Fred said. "Mendez is proof of that. Not enough soldiers survived, so they shut it down."

"Then why reopen it?" Linda asked. "And why call them Spartans?"

"I don't know."

"Really?" The Spartan-IIs turned to Tom. He returned their looks. "You don't know how popular you are? You're all living legends. Everyone has heard of the Spartans."

"So they did it because they're making a brand name?" Kelly asked.

"It sounds like it," Ash said. "It helps moral, knowing you have Spartans on your side. That's how they got us to volunteer, they showed us a Spartan."

"You mean Kurt," Fred said. Tom flinched, looking away.

"Yes," Lucy said.

"So they're keeping us to put an extra edge on the IVs, I can understand that. But why use adults? They'll just be repeating Orion."

"Maybe they're trying to break away from Dr. Halsey," Tom said. "I was talking to a psychiatrist, and he seemed shocked that I volunteered when I was ten."

A half-forgotten memory rose to Fred's conscious. He was a child, and Dr. Halsey was standing on a platform.

You can never go back to your families.

But this was his family now. Kelly, Linda and Naomi, wherever she was.

"You're saying that if the project is public, they wouldn't want people to know about the training," Fred said.

"Or how they got the soldiers," Linda added.

"Fine." Fred finished attaching his gauntlet. Linda was quick to follow. "It doesn't matter who these people are, it's our job to train them. Let's go."

Fred led them out of the locker room, donning his helmet before entering the training area of the Infinity. Inside was grass and hills, very much like the ones on Reach. For a split second, Fred felt at home.

Then he saw the Spartan-IVs. There were a lot of them, almost two hundred if Fred's first glimpse of them was right. They wore their own Mjolnir armor, too, but they seemed more segmented. More of the gel lining was visible, less armor covering them. They also had smaller visors and were blockier, almost like they were cut from the same mass production line that Marine armor was.

ONI must be gearing up for the next war, Fred thought.

"Officer on deck!"

The Spartans snapped salutes. Fred returned it.

"At ease," he said. "I am Lieutenant Fred, 048. This is Kelly, Linda, Tom, Lucy and Ash. From this point on, we will be your new trainers. Captain Virmire?"

A soldier stepped up, removing his helmet. Fred could tell it was Virmire because of his long brown hair.

"Reporting for duty, sir."

"How long have your soldiers been training in their armor?"

"Sir, for two months, sir. We're very proficient with them."

"That's good to hear."

"What's our first order of training, sir?"

Fred expected an ODST to say that, not a Spartan.

"We will examine your proficiency with your armor, then assess how much training you will need."

"More movement drills, sir?"

A Spartan would have saluted.

"Yes, Captain. Is there a problem?"

"None, sir. We were just practicing armed exercises before you were assigned to our detail."

Fred didn't like where this was going.

"Are you saying that you're perfectly skilled at operating the armor in any given situation?"

"Yes, sir. My men and I are ready for anything from long range encounters to hand-to-hand combat."

Suddenly the attitude made sense. The man was clearly an ODST prior to his enlistment in the program, and in Fred's extensive experience, ODSTs had a show-me mentality. They wouldn't believe they weren't ready until they were beat in a drill. He opened a private comm to Kelly.

Want to try them in hand-to-hand? He asked.

Yes, sir. I'd like to see how the augmentation process was for them, she replied.

"Very well, Captain," Fred said, closing the comm line. "If you believe that your men are ready, select your best fighter. If they can beat Petty Officer Kelly, we'll accelerate your training."

"Yes, sir." Now Virmire saluted, a grin on his face. "Tyler! Show them what you've got!"

A soldier stepped through the ranks. His armor was painted a deep red, border lining on black. It appeared that armor color was picked by the soldier.

"Petty Officer Durdan reporting for duty, sir."

Kelly stepped forward, putting her helmet on.

"Fighting a girl, huh, sir?" Fred could hear the grin on his face as he looked towards his captain.

"Just get it over with," Virmire said.

The soldiers started surrounding the two fighters. Many removed their helmets and began cheering. Fred walked up to Kelly and Durdan.

"This will be a fight to submission, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Kelly said.

"Got it," Durdan replied.

"Fight."

Durdan darted in close, using a boxing stance. Kelly slapped away his jabs and lazily countered with her own, which Durdan easily avoided.

"Come on, that it?" He demanded.

Kelly didn't say anything.

He moved in again, unleashing flurry of punches and kicks. Kelly avoided or blocked them all. Fred could tell when she was slowing herself down, and this was one of those times.

Are these really Spartans? She asked on their comm line.

The crowd booed at her blocks.

"Come on, fight back!" Durdan shouted.

Kelly sighed and started fighting back. She started slow, throwing punches and kicks slower than the ones Durdan was throwing. She let one punch hang in the air for a split second, and Durdan moved to throw her over his shoulder. Kelly let him and rolled away. He tried to grapple her, but Kelly sent him spinning with a quick jab.

Her punches began getting quicker and quicker. Durdan blocked and dodged when he could, but Kelly was easily pushing him back. She started landing hits to his midsection, doubling him over. Durdan knew he was outgunned, but kept fighting.

"Captain, your man is done."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, he's fine."

Kelly, you're fighting to submission. Make him give up, Fred said.

Kelly nodded curtly and cut loose. She became a blur of motion, punching at such speed that Durdan couldn't hope to back. He double back, holding his arms up like a boxer on the ropes. Kelly kept at him, denting his armor with heavier and heavier punches. Durdan's knees buckled, and Kelly threw him over her shoulder with such quickness that many of the Spartan-IVs gasped.

"Do you surrender?" She asked, holding his arm in a lock.

Lying on the ground, Durdan threw a punch with his free arm. Kelly knocked it aside.

"Do you surrender?"

Durdan tried to pull out of grasp. Kelly slammed her elbow down, cracking his visor.

"Do you surrender?"

Durdan weakly hit back. Kelly hit him again and he went limp. The Spartan-IVs went dead quiet.

"Captain, summon a medic for your man," Fred ordered. "We'll give you ten minutes to get your squad ready for movement exercises.

"Yes, sir." Fred was amazed he could talk through such tightly pressed lips.

The mess hall, naturally, was loud. With over two hundred Spartan-IVs, it was crowded, too. Linda guessed it would take less than ten seconds for it to go quiet.

She followed Fred and Kelly into the mess. One IV looked up, and suddenly it went quiet. She was right; it only took four seconds. The talking picked up, albeit at a tighter, controlled pace, as the three IIs walked to the lunch line to pick up their food. Linda spotted the IIIs sitting at a separate table and nodded towards them. With their trays full of Navy slop, they took a seat with them.

"I assume that things aren't going well with them," Fred said.

"Oh, training's going fine," Tom said. "They just hate us."

"That's what I meant."

"In that case, everything's going perfectly."

"Why do they hate you? I'd thought they'd hate us instead," Linda said.

"Our training," Lucy muttered.

"They're not as military as us," Ash added.

"I'm confused."

"They were raised as civilians. We were raised as soldiers. There's a big difference," Tom said.

"Now that makes sense," Kelly said. "I knew they'd hate us IIs. We don't get along very well with ODSTs."

"They're not ODSTs."

"Many of them were ODST before volunteering. And ODSTs hate us."

"You'd think that after a month and a half, they'd get over your fight."

"Marines were never one for letting a grudge go to waste," Linda said. "ODSTs are worse."

"Why do you think ONI wants us here?" Fred asked quietly. "They must know that there's a difference between the Spartan-II and –III project and the IVs. Even with augmentation they're not our equal."

"Mass production," Lucy said.

"They're trying to make a better III project?" Tom said. Lucy nodded.

"What do you mean, 'a better III project?'" Kelly asked.

"The Spartan-III project wasn't supposed to be like you IIs. We're a…fire and forget solution." Tom said it as evenly as he could, but Linda could see the anger as clear as day. "For a time, it worked. They must want better soldiers than us, but with the cheapness of mass production."

"And still you beat them in training," Linda mused.

"They're not as professional as us," Ash said.

Linda caught movement in the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw a junior grade ONI officer walking towards them. She tapped the table and nodded. Fred looked up.

"Lieutenant Fredric, you and your team is wanted in the briefing room."

"Who sent you?"

"The ONI Admiral Board."

Fred traded looks with everyone.

"Take us," he said, picking up his half-empty tray. Linda took one more bite of her sandwich and followed suit. They followed the officer, stopping briefly to drop their trays off. Linda could feel the eyes of the IVs on her back as she left.

The officer took them down the now familiar corridors of the Infinity and into the briefing room. The room was darker, as ONI liked them, but her eyes instantly adjusted. Linda could make out only one admiral, however. An old lady, and Serin was sitting next to her.

"Admiral Parangosky," Linda saluted the head of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

"At ease, Spartans." They stood at attention. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Ma'am, do you mean here talking to you, or stationed on the Infinity?" Fred asked.

"You're reports were right, Serin," Parangosky grinned. "They do suspect."

Serin didn't react.

"You were stationed here on the Infinity to train the Spartan-IV volunteers," Parangosky continued. "What do you have to say about them?"

"Ma'am, they're good soldiers, but with all due respect, they're not Spartans," Fred said.

"Of course they aren't. Well, at least when compared to the original Spartans they don't hold up."

"Then why are we training them? They've only marginally improved while under us."

Parangosky smiled.

"Purely a publicity stunt, Lieutenant."

"I'm sorry, ma'am?"

"You training the Spartan-IVs was a pure publicity stunt, one that I made sure the entirety of the UNSC saw. As you are sure to know, the Spartan project has received an immense amount of public support ever since it went public. You were are ace-in-the-hole during the Covenant war, the one thing keeping moral from collapsing in on itself. Even if you were just used for photo ops, you would have boosted moral. But I doubt you'd want to be resigned to a life of posing for cameras, would you?"

"That's right, ma'am."

"So you were ordered to train the fourth generation Spartans, and it was publicly stated. Suddenly, you have a reason for staying out of the public's eye, a reason no one would question, leaving you with enough free time to do what's necessary."

"Ma'am, and that would be?" Linda asked.

"Doing what you were always intended on doing. Training the next generation of Spartans."

"You don't mean the Spartan-IVs, do you, ma'am?" Kelly said.

"That's right. I'm here to inform you that you will be training the Spartan-V project."

"With all due respect, ma'am, if they are anything like the IV project, I doubt we will be much help."

"That's why the V project won't be the same. We'll be going back to Dr. Halsey's original project parameters."

Suddenly it got quiet.

"You mean…?"

"That's right, you'll be training children."

"But you made it a public statement that we would be training volunteer troops," Fred said.

"I did," Parangosky said. "Loudly, and as often as I could. Now you have a reason to go missing indefinitely without having people question where you are."

"But we're under the assumption that the UNSC wanted to distance itself from that," Tom said.

"The UNSC, maybe, but ONI knows better. The IV project will never be as successful as the II project, or even the IIIs, for that matter. Dr. Halsey might have committed crimes against humanity, but she was bright, and in some cases right about what was needed, and right now we need those Spartans, no matter what the cost. We might have a peace treaty with the Covenant, but only as long as the Arbiter is alive. And I am not betting on him living forever.

"The children you will be working with would have mostly volunteered themselves, or their parents volunteered them for them. It will be your job to train them to the best of their ability. And you will have help, too. Chief Mendez has been assigned to you again."

"Thank you, ma'am," Fred said. "How many candidates will we be working with? Seventy?"

"Heavens no. A full three hundred. Symbolic, isn't it?"

"That's excellent news, ma'am, but how has ONI stayed with Dr. Halsey's genetic parameters?"

"That will be the biggest change with the V generation. We've opened the parameters, like the III project, but the entirety of the program would be getting the II augmentations."

"Permission to speak," Linda said. Parangosky nodded. "Those parameters were there for a reason. Half of us died from the augmentation, and that's even with us fitting the parameters. Straying from those guidelines would result in even more loss of life."

"The augmentation process has been improved. They will all survive the augmentation."

"Respectfully, I think you're putting too much hope in the science team," Fred said. "If Dr. Halsey was working with you, we could have higher—"

"Dr. Halsey is not with us, so you will have to make due," Parangosky snapped. "Train those Spartans and get them augmented. That is an order."

Everyone stood a little straighter.

"Yes ma'am," Fred saluted. "One final question, if I may?"

"Yes, you may," Parangosky said, suddenly all smiles.

"What will happen to the IV project?"

"They will remain as the Spartan's public face. We'll give them a permanent base on a planet, something the marines and ODSTs have been petitioning for, send them on some high-importance missions, give them some medals, and keep touting how they're the best of the best and in no way shape or form a product of crimes against humanity."

"Understood. When do we start?"

"Next week. To help you with your task, I'm giving you more help. Starting tomorrow, you will work with a host of dumb-AIs, as well as one smart-AI. Demeter?"

A holographic projector warmed up, and an AI appeared. It appeared to be a tree-shaped woman. From her toes to her heels, her feet were dark as soil with bright traces of roots running from the toes upwards. Her legs seemed to be the trunks, dark and thick with bark. Her torso began branching out, and her arms and head were the branches, with leafs as her cascading hair.

"Hello," the AI said cheerfully. To Linda, it sounded vaguely like the rustling of leaves, or stalks of wheat blowing in the wind. "I am Demeter. It is my pleasure to work with you."

"She's programmed to be helpful, whether it would be helping you select exercises for the trainees, or aiding them in their studies."

"Thank you, ma'am," Fred said. "A smart AI would be most helpful."

"No expense is being spared for you, Spartans. I expect nothing but perfection from you. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," everyone saluted.

Kelly could hear the trainees from the other side of the door. She had to be going crazy; the blast doors were easily two meters thick, made from grade-A titanium alloy, more than enough to make a Scorpion tank blush. She shouldn't be able to hear them, it must be in her head. She shifted in her armor.

Nervous? Linda asked on their private comm line.

I didn't train to teach, she replied.

Neither did anyone else in this outfit.

Kelly snorted.

"Was this how you felt when you started training us?" Fred asked Chief Mendez.

"This is exactly it," the Chief replied. Unlike the Spartans, he stood in standard issue Marine armor. "Can't believe I'm doing this again."

"Hey, what could be a cushier job than teaching some snot nosed kids how to be soldiers?" Kelly said, full of bravado.

"I think I'll take fighting the Covenant," Ash said. "It's easier."

Kelly had to agree with him.

"Half these kids have no right being here," she muttered.

"That's not up to use to decide," Fred said. Kelly would never understand how he was able to keep his voice so even. She could hear the effort he put into it, though. Only John could make anything seem like a cakewalk. "Everyone ready?"

Chief Mendez, Linda, Tom, Lucy and Ash all nodded.

"We're all good, Chief," Kelly said.

"Good. Now let's put on a show for these recruits. Demeter? Would you please open the doors."

"Of course. For the record, the trainees are a little restless."

"Leave that to us."

The door to the main ground slid open. Kelly could actually feel a slight breeze of air push on her armor. The engineering corps did their job well. The drill field was just like how she remembered it on Reach; dirty meadow, chain link fences surrounding the base's buildings, barracks looming far in front of them, everything. If she closed her eyes, she could swear she was on Reach, and not on the biggest human-made ship in history.

They walked out in their green MJOLNIR armor. Tom, Lucy and Ash wore their reflective SPI armor, and Chief Mendez wore his simple Marine armor. In front of them was the crowd of recruits. Each had a marine handler standing next to them, keeping them in one general area. A hard enough task, as they were almost all seven years old, rambunctious and full of life. But seeing Kelly and the other Spartans, their eyes bulged out of their sockets, and they stood very still.

Fred walked up a small platform. Kelly quickly followed him, Linda and Mendez behind her. The SPARTAN-IIIs flanked the platform.

"I am SPARTAN One-Oh-Four, Lieutenant Fredric." His amplified voice carried out over the field. "You have been selected to be the best you can ever hope to be. You have been selected to be like us: Spartans. You will be trained, enhanced, and trained even more, sworn to defend the UNSC and all of her colonies from domestic threats and the threat of the Covenant.

"All of you are smart, and some are probably thinking why we would need to defend ourselves from an enemy that has promised to be our friend. While we have declared peace between the UNSC and the Covenant High Command, led by the Arbiter, we cannot delude ourselves. The Covenant cannot control themselves any better than we can control our own colonies. There will be extremist groups, uprisings, assassination attempts, even all-out war between us. To believe anything else would be foolish.

"There will always be a need for soldiers. And with the Covenant, there will always be a need for Spartans.

"Many of you are war orphans. You will undoubtedly want to avenge your slain family. I am here to tell you that that will not become part of your training. As soldiers, you will obey the chain of command, and will work to put the needs of the UNSC ahead of your own. I expect the desire for revenge to be dropped in one month's time, or you will face disciplinary actions.

"Tomorrow we begin your training. Dismissed."

The children were herded off to the barracks. Many had to be shaken out of their stupor of seeing an armored Spartan.

"God, were we like that?" Linda asked.

"No," Mendez said. "You were more shocked hearing that you could never go home."

"Then let's work them, make them think of this place as a home," Fred said. "Tomorrow, boot starts."

"Sir," Kelly saluted.