PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING

Michael Roberts awoke like he did every day. Staring at the cold, white surface that was his ceiling, he lay there, thinking of the day to come. Would it be like every other day, filled with paperwork and drudgery? Or would it be different, with an exciting twist that changed the flow of his day, or maybe his year? The only thing he knew for certain was that there was a loud buzzing sound going off right next to his ear which was annoying him.

He hit the snooze for the alarm and sat up, stretching and yawning. At 6'11", Michael was an imposing figure, towering over most men. His bright blue eyes belied his appearance, however. He had broad shoulders, but had the look and air of a statesmen. This serenity yet power was reflected throughout his life

His room was immaculate. The carpet was a soft shade of blue, made of silk from China. The carpet caressed the feet like a cloud on a sunny day, sucking the weariness out of Michael as he walked across it to his wardrobe. The wardrobe, in sharp contrast to the carpet, was made of solid oak, a dark shade of brown, yet it glowed and shimmered with the whitewashed walls and the blue floor.

Michael threw on a standard dress suit, and proceeded through his house to the kitchen, another meticulously clean room with a black marble stovetop and beautiful maple pantry cupboards, where he had his usual breakfast for a Wednesday morning, comprising of toast with low-fat margarine and two mangoes. Once he had finished breakfast, and his dishes were all cleaned, he moved to put on his dress shoes. As he reached the front door, he paused. It was this part of the morning that he disliked the most, but it didn't change the fact that he had to do it. A simple voice command later, the door swung open, allowing him out…

A wave of people swarmed to the threshold, pushing and shoving to get near him.

"Mr. President, what are your plans for the proposed militarization of the old Reach colony?"

"Mr. President, you mentioned something about a new initiative against the resistance during your last meeting. Could you expound upon that?"

"Mr. President, Theos Prime is having economic difficulties. What are you planning on doing about it?"

The questions rolled over Michael like a thunderstorm, yet he was undisturbed. This had become a daily occurrence, ever since had he become the leader of the Intergalactic Empire, more commonly referred to as the IE or Iron Empire. The motto of the IE was that, if the people weren't pacified, they'd revolt. As so many historians can account for, bloodshed is not the answer to everything, though it can solve many problems.

Michael ignored the questions mostly, occasionally giving a non-answer to those whose voices he heard the loudest. Moving through the crowd, he began his twenty minute walk to the bus. As life-long President, Michael felt obligated to attempt experience the life of an ordinary citizen. Though the crowds weren't helping maintain this illusion of a simple life, the Obelisks which came flying from his door would soon disperse the crowd

The Obelisk was a super-powered version of the Sentinel, a military machine designed by a long dead race known as the Forerunners. Four tiny balls would float outside the door, each no bigger than a marble, and would wait for him to leave. These devices, however, were actually one large device held in slipspace. The machine had access to all the latest in military hardware, from espionage equipment to counter-espionage equipment to the weaponry of a full battalion of Spartans.

Michael smiled as the Obelisks began to circle him. They were beginning to generate a micro-electric pulse wave (or MEP Wave for short) which disrupted all energy-based items around it and solidified the air around him. The people around him started to wink out of existence as the pulse wave passed through their bodies, their voices dying with their holographic projections.

Since the invention of the hologram, a news reporter could be light years away and still grill a politician about their latest policies if the reporter had access to the right equipment. Unfortunately for Michael, this meant that these projections (all using hard light so as to give them physical position) could literally come from all corners of the galaxy at any time of day or night to ask of him a simple question which the Citadel's staff would have been more than happy to answer for him.

Michael walked away from the door that was his house. Since the emergence of slipspace devices which emitted no harmful radiation, houses had literally been shrunk to the size of the door which he had just exited, allowing the planet Earth to house several septillion humans on its tiny body. Coupled with Zero Point Energy Generators, pollution was nonexistent, and the planet Earth had literally reverted to its once pristine form, allowing for the IE to label it as a Galactic Treasure, a name given to places not to ever be disturbed by military, social, political, or any other kind of

Michael sat down at the bus stop. Breathing in the fresh air, he looked aimlessly at the sky. So much had happened in the five hundred years since the fall of the UNSC that it was startling. Humanity's technological acceleration had never stopped, new inventions becoming minute to minute occurrence. Some revolutionized life. Some didn't. Either way, it didn't change the fact that humans were becoming more and more powerful with every passing day. The energy of suns were harnessed, reactions on an atomic scale could be measured, even the once unbreakable laws of physics were being bent and broken at any given time. With this speed, it became necessary for humanity to adapt. As a result, the brain began to take on a much more important role. New structures are becoming apparent. Some seem to have no purpose, and just sit there, occasionally firing off a neuron. Others seem to act like a brain within a brain, firing more neurons in a second than the brain used to fire in a whole lifetime. Some few had exhibited signs of dual brains, but they often became unstable at a young age, though prior to their insanity, they would show signs of brilliance. It was an age of wonder and intrigue, and it would continue, if the IE had anything to do about it.

"Hey Michael! How was your morning?" Sarah Tabor walked up to him, her usual cheerful self shining in the early dawn. She was a cute woman, 6'2" with blonde hair which she usually tied back in a pony tail. She enjoyed exercising, and ran 5 miles on a daily basis. Her physique was that of a model, but her piercing green eyes missed nothing. She was Michael's secretary, but was essentially the genius behind the smooth running of the whole empire.

"Meh. Same old story. Wake up, hit the snooze, get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, get mobbed by reporters, kill reporters, come to bus stop. How 'bout you?"

She smirked. "Can't say I've killed anything today, other than one nasty mosquito, but I think I may end up chewing out a few bureaucrats by the end of the day. Also, my neighbor woke me up three times with some blaring music from some long-forgotten time. That's my biggest problem with moving to Earth from the Citadel," she gave a sheepish gesture, signaling that she just didn't know what to do about it.

Michael smirked. Ironically, he was the one who was supposed to live in the Citadel, so as to respond to emergencies all over the empire, while the secretary lived on Earth, but somehow the positions had been switched. About a month ago, he had suggested that she try living down on Earth. She resisted at first, but eventually said fine. Since then, he thought that she had had a happier atmosphere about her.

"Well, that's not too good. I hope you sleep better next time. However, in a more pressing manner, you usually aren't this chipper this early unless you're planning on torturing me with something."

Her eyes glinted. "Bravo, Michael. Your perceptive powers continue to amaze us all," she paused, looking around before continuing. "The thing is, the Spartan project has become stagnant, right? We've been looking for ways to improve upon it, but most of the newest technologies aren't suitable for combat, don'tcha think?"

Michael nodded. It was no surprise. In terms of weapons, the IE's research teams had flooded them with different weapon specs. However, most of the newest technology was useless for hand-to-hand (or even long-range) combat, so no one had been able to draw any military applications for it.

"I'm assuming that someone's found a use for some of the more inane items our science team has come up with?"

"Got it in one." She glanced around, again, as if looking for someone. "In fact, he said he was going to meet us here…" Then she fixated on an object behind Michael. Michael turned, and saw a man waving his hand at Michael from about a kilometer away.

"He the one you were talking about?" Michael queried.

"Think so. You know him, too." This time she smirked. Michael turned and looked at her sharply, but he found no answer in her innocent gaze.

Finally, the man caught up to them. "It's good to see you again, Michael," the man said, panting.

Michael didn't recognize him, and he had a pretty good mind. Everything about this man was unknown to him. In fact, it wasn't just the man, but the very air around him…

"Oh right. You don't recognize me. Hold on…" With a slight hissssss of air, the man's form collapsed on itself, resolving into a smaller man with unkempt, fiery red hair, a square jaw, and dark brown eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken a couple times, too.

"John! You mongrel, what the hell have you been up to?" Michael laughed. John Fleming had been his friend since childhood, even before Michael became the king of an intergalactic empire spanning the whole Milky Way.

"Oh, you know, this and that. I'm an advisor on the board of the "Special Military Projects" Division, now. Now, being the advisor has some perks. One is that I get to make… propositions for the budget. It's because of this that I have a proposition for you. You remember the old spy novels?"

Michael was dumbfounded. Many or those antiquated "novels" and "movies" were recorded, but most people preferred spending time in VR than reading an old book or watching an old, two-dimensional projection that wasn't interactable. "I remember them, but we really don't need them, do we? Our Spartans can adapt to anything. Spies are useless if the person they work for gets crushed like a fly."

John smirked. "Nothing is unstoppable, Michael, least of all our army. Everything has a weak point, from armor to weapons to tactics to formations to strategies. My job allows me to sniff out ways to protect these gaps. However, since we do have such sophisticated defenses and offenses, we've never had the need for someone who can hide amongst the enemy and sow dissidence and confusion." He took a breath. It was hard to sell something if it was deemed useless, and if he didn't drive this next point perfectly, it would all be for naught. "Look, no one knows what goes on in the Covenant and Heretic councils. Every informant we send only relays confused messages, with the occasional spark of intel, which is usually a bait set by them to ignite a war with the other. Obviously, our informants don't get the truth when we send them, with or without holograms. So I've been designing the next generation of Spartan, one which can mimic anything, as you saw by the holo-disguise, which, by the way, is not affected by your MEP wave, as well as break any encryption or hide anything which we would ordinarily not have access to without force. We'll have a spy system of the olden times, only with a much more sophisticated network."

"I was wondering why that hologram didn't die. Anyway, you want a super-spy, to replace the need for super-soldiers?" Michael was hesitant to jump on this particular bandwagon, but it had its merits. If it succeeded, they could continue to subjugate the Covenant and Heretics indefinitely, ruling through persuasion and hints rather than brute force and propaganda…

Michael got up. "Well, you'll have to submit the whole project to me. I can tell you right now that there will be many people opposed to it. As for me, I'm inclined to accept this idea, but you will have to sway me, too." Michael knew that John was using their friendship to sway the decision in his favor, but Michael could also tell that the program might be useful. It all depended on how John planned on accomplishing his goal.

"It'll be the first item you see this morning, Michael." John looked up to see the bus descending right over him. The bus was a simple shuttle, similar in design to the old space shuttles of the 21st century, except that it used gravitics to transport its passengers between places, in this case transporting Michael, John, and Sarah to the Citadel, where they began the drudgery of a 73 hour day before coming back to sleep for 20 hours. The marvels of technology allowed for this adjusted sleep schedule, but it was taxing on the body. Estimates placed the average human life span at almost twice as long if humans were allowed to maintain the average 24 hour days. However, many employers felt the 3:1 work time over the 1:1 work time of the original sleep schedule was much more beneficial for the empire as a whole.

As the bus ascended through the clouds, the outline of a giant planetoid, in the orbit the moon had been in, became apparent above their heads. It had a diamond shape, with multiple spires and rods extending in all directions. With multiple armaments and defenses spattered throughout the base, this stationary fortress, nicknamed the Citadel, was the heart of the IE. Every executive order was relayed through here. Generals on far off missions were required to check in via holographic link. Everything which was of importance, from the smallest orders to the biggest decisions, was made here. At the center of the Citadel, with the exception of the central Quantum Reactor, was the President's chamber, a large, spacious room with two circular desks in the middle, one extending from the ceiling down, the other extending from the floor up, taking advantage of the science of gravitics to effectively double the work space available to the President. The room itself was necessarily large in case a procession of Covenant or Heretic leaders decided to request an audience, as their entourage usually consisted of several dozen guards.

As Michael sat down at his gigantic desk, he ordered an electronic databoard (colloquially known as an EDB) containing the schedule of tasks requiring his attention for the day. The first one, as promised, was a full scale report, complete with visual diagrams and schematics, of the project John wanted to head. It looked promising, and its budget was surprisingly low considering the usual expenditures required to create a new Spartan program…

Michael leaned back and began to read. It looked promising enough…

The Intergalactic Bipartite Committee was comprised of two houses, one focusing on military and social aspects, dealing with military budgets and similar issues, as well as the well-being of the general populace on all the planets, while the other focused on economic and political issues, dealing in manipulating the money and budgets, as well as swaying people to keep them in power. Similar to the rest of the IE, this had a nickname as well, known as the Iron Brain Committee, or IBC. It was through the IBC that the whole empire was manipulated to continually vote for the same people and the same strategies over and over again. This gave the people the illusion in freedom, though their true freedom, of speech, guns, and protests, was squelched at all times.

Today, though, would prove far more interesting for the rulers of the IE. A bill had recently been placed before the council by President Michaels for a new type of Spartan, one which would fulfill a spy role for the army, essentially a clone of the ONI agents of lore. While the ordinary citizen might think of it as a good cause, giving better security, the IBC was split right down the center. There was a large majority who saw these Spartans as a disaster waiting to happen. Their most common argument was that, if a Spartan went rogue, as Spartans were known to do on occasion, they would have very little power to stop them at current security regulations. The other side argued that, while dangerous, the potential benefits far outweighed the dangers. In the end, when it came down to a vote, the only person who could sway anyone was the President.

As Michael stepped up to the podium and began his speech, he reflected on his friend, John. John had always been striving to make the IE a better place, ever since he originally had been made into the advisor of the Special Projects Division. He had come up with several ideas, most of them good, but since he was only an advisor, they had all been shut down without so much as a glance. Michael was probably the carrier for John's plan, but he didn't care. That's what friends did, right?

Michael wrapped up his 45 minute long speech, eyeing as many people as he could see. The speech had to be just right, perfect and understanding at the same time. If it came across as pompous, he would lose the support of the powerful and influential people. If it came across as belittling, he'd lose the support of the people who thought that it was a big issue. If it was humorous, he'd lose the support of the serious people, and so on and so forth. It was hard to please everyone, but it was possible. After all, if it can be dreamt, it can be done.

As Michael finished, he realized he had done the impossible. The whole virtual auditorium, filled with well over two thousand holographic images, clapped and applauded, the sound rolling and swelling with each person. Though he had given it while sitting at his desk, attached to a VR projector, he had touched the thoughts of everyone who was at the IBC, be they in Moscow or in a deep-space monitoring station. He swelled with pride. This was exactly what John had been hoping for, and Michael hadn't let him down.

With that, Michael raised his hands, and the assembled fell silent. "Men and women of the Committee, I now ask you, will you throw your weight behind this new initiative? Would you make the next step towards our future? If you believe in me, your president, I request that you vote yes." As in the Congress of the United States of America of long ago, almost all movements required a two-thirds vote, though they didn't require people to second motions. The machine that was the IE began to turn at this point.

Throughout the amassed blob of people, the vote trickled back. Sixty eight percent in favor, with 20 against and 12 undecided. It was a success. As Michael stepped down from the platform, one of the many people in the crowd came up to him. "You did it! I'm so happy! Thank you for all your help!" The man was practically crying. Michael smiled. "I only did what you asked me to, John. Your own words from your report did the rest." John smiled as well, in spite of his tears. This time, Michael had recognized him, even with the fake avatar. With a few more "Thank you"s, John disappeared into the crowd, heading back to his work place, celebrating and laughing the whole day long. Michael merely said hello and good-bye to a few more people before he finally left for the rest of the day that was ahead of him.

A little later on, Michael felt the jingle that signaled he had an incoming call. Pulling himself out of an engrossing budget assessment of Theos Prime, Michael turned on his VR.

"Michael here."

John's avatar appeared. "I wanted to thank you again. You've done so much for me, even though I'm undeserving of your gratitude. You are an amazing friend to me, and I really appreciate the fact that you pushed that through. I was holding my breath in the front row, waiting to hear the results. I still can't believe that you got it done."

Michael looked at John's avatar. "It was no problem. You remember the saying, when we were kids? 'Anything you put your mind to…'"

"'You can do.' Yep. I believe it was I who first quoted it. You were still wondering why the sun was yellow instead of blue."

Michael shrugged. Children were like that. "I still think the sun would look cooler if it was blue. Unfortunately, I've recently learned that a blue sun isn't cool at all, but a fireball of death. And I don't want to be known as the one who evaporated the oceans and killed off all the plants." This elicited a laugh from John, but Michael was already pushing forward with the more pressing matters. "By the way, you do realize that you're in trouble now, right?"

John's previously glowing face fell with a silent crash. A worried look replaced it, staring intently at Michael's face. "Why? What's happened?"

"You're head of your project, that's what," Michael said, his smile growing broader. John always did think of the worst case scenario, and it appeared that this time was no different. John's face reignited with happiness, although this time there was a glint in them that revealed to Michael that he had been hoping for the job. Michael chuckled a bit, but knew he had to get back to work.

"I'll see you around, John. Do me a favor, and don't get yourself killed. That project you're heading isn't going to be easy to handle, you know."

This time, John nodded solemnly, the happiness inside him visibly ebbing away. "No promises, but I expected this. Besides, I've already been stuck in this position, so no going back, right?"

Michael shook his head. "No. No going back."

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter. (Sorry that I'm two days late!) I hope to make the next chapter quickly, but this is going to be a REALLY long story (over 10 pages of mapping alone, not including outlines and the rest) which will probably take me about a month for each chapter. Here's to hoping that I get better at writing as I go. Any criticism is welcome, including flames. If you've got an intelligible and intuitive comment, please feel free to send it to me, and I'll probably respond, too. Thanks!

And please, PLEASE tell me if I have grammatical errors, am expounding on points for too long, I misspelled a word, etc. I'm rereading these chapters, but I'm NOT perfect, and I could really use all the help I can get. Thanks again!

By the way, this is an Alternate Universe - Maintains similarities with points up until Halo 2, then diverges. Ignoring Halo 3 storyline for the most part. (Though I may include parts from Halo 3 later, if it fits with the general storyline)

Next update should be before October 15th. See you then