This is the prologue to my story, so if you don't want to read it you won't miss any of the good parts. Basically for those just beginning to read this series it correlates the history of Halo with that of what happens in my previous story. This prologue also tells the history of Spartan Jordan 267, or War as his alias, of Gamma Company. I may or may not chose to continue this story depending upon the reviews.

Prologue

Darkness surrounded the lone occupant in the silent room. His breathing was labored, almost gasping for air. The movements were quick and erratic, as if he was escaping or fighting. Perspiration clung to his entire body and the sheets that entangled him. With a roar he reared up his hands clenched into fists. If anyone had been present to see the man's blue irises they could have sworn that they were glowing, but that would be impossible in a room without light.

The young man's breathing was slowing but the body remained tensed stuck in the fight or flight reaction. Eventually the man lowered his arms finally realizing that he was alone in the room. He ran his right hand through his hair feeling its' beyond regulation growth, then running down his face feeling the day old beard. Once his racing heart rate had settled he let out a sigh before he called out into the darkness.

"Mother, Lights!" he yelled in irritation when he looked at the clock seeing it read 4:05.

"My name is not Mother, Jordan." the said A.I. tersely as the lights came on.

The A.I. that Jordan had deemed Mother was actually named Athena. She was the Artificial Intelligence responsible for running the ONI the Marathon Class Stealth Cruiser. It was the only Marathon Class Cruiser that had been upgraded for stealth capabilities. Well that was the official word anyways. Her appearance was that of what her Greek goddess namesake. She seemed to glow with godly power. She wore armor akin to that of the ancient Spartans. A golden chest plate covered her entire chest, though it was molded to fit a woman's needs. A red cloak embroidered with gold draped over her shoulders, along with a red skirt around the waist. This goddess was armed with a shield with a screaming head on the left arm and a long spear on the right arm.

"Why do you keep calling me Mother anyways?" she asked her voice losing none of its bite.

"The last person who grounded me was my mother. That's why I call you Mother. Why don't you call me 267 or War?" Jordan replied as he threw the semi damp sheets off of him.

"I would hardly call being confined to quarters, being grounded. Besides Jordan is your name so I will call you as such."

"So what do you call it when someone is confined to one room, and is only allowed to leave under certain conditions?"

"A prisoner." she replied in somewhat humorous manner as he headed to the bathroom.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." he said without any enthusiasm.

He walked past the holographic A.I. with a serious look on his face. She watched him pass a thoughtful look on her face. Unlike Spartan II's, Spartan III's were not as inclined to hide their emotions. This was mostly beneficial to the A.I. who had the ability to analyze facial patterns, thermal changes, and access to each of the Spartan's psychological files. She had seen this type of behavior from him before. It had led to some of his self destructive tendencies.

The Spartan was already in the shower, the water clearing his mind, letting his thoughts wander back to his dream.

He was back on DRACO III and he was six again. The Covenant had invaded the planet and destroyed any military resistance. It had happened far too quickly. The Covenant seemed to have known how many UNSC forces were on the planet and where they were located.

Any survivors were rounded up for Covenant sport…or food. He and his family along with a few other strugglers to weakened to be of any fun were given to the grunts and jackals to be food.

He had remembered a tall bird like monster digging its' teeth into his mothers neck and one of the small blue diminutive creatures feasted on one of her legs. None of the monsters found him of any interest. The screams of the many around him sounded like a chorus of the damned as the monsters feasted upon the flesh on their bones. Acting on fear of his parent's safety more than anything else he tried to save them. His legs were shorter and arms weaker he stood no chance against these monsters but he attempted anyway. Small fists pummeled the orange clad creature. It was only a head taller than him, but it was full grown and a lot stronger. A half attempted back hand sent him sprawling back into the blood stained earth. All of the air in his lungs had been knocked out of him as he landed. As he recovered he stared into the orange hell tinted sky, ashes of the dead fell like rain. While he lay there something in him rose as he realized he was losing everything. His parents were dying or dead. The land of his birth was being burnt to the ground. Finally the blue sky that he had loved had been taken away.

Something primal in him rose, something viscous and highly volatile. He rose back up on his feet went back toward the small creature with idea of inflicting as much pain as possible. While the creature was still feasting on the twitching leg. Jordan wrapped his arms around the creature's neck and squeezed. A sickening pop was heard over the din of screams. Letting go the creature fell down to the ground dead. Blood and saliva drooled out of its open mouth.

A deafening silence seemed to encompass him, everything was drowned out as his actions brought him to reality. Long shadows fell over him blotting out the light of the orange sky. Turning up he saw that all the monsters had gathered around him. All of them were soaked with red human blood. He didn't have time to defend himself as they descended upon him. Punches and kicks came from all sides as they mobbed him.

A powerful voice ended the beating and the monsters moved away. By that point the was too beaten to even to attempt to lift his head. Bruises covered his entire body, and blood leaked out of open wounds. His red blood mixed in with ground the red muddy earth. He was fading in and out of consciousness as his brain attempted to save him by shutting him down, but he wouldn't go down not yet he would not let the darkness claim him.

His eyes could see the shadows on the ground part and for a moment a brief ray of light shone upon him. Then a shadow bigger than the others blotted out the light and he was lost in the shadow of that great giant. He gave weak attempt to raise his head, to see the face of the one that had called off the beating. The only thing he saw were green boots.

The large one spoke in a language he did not understand, nor really cared for that matter he was ready to die. Clawed hand grabbed by the back and the arms hauling him off the ground. Now he stared at the being that had called off the beatings. It was massive, and the thing of a monster's nightmares. It was clad in entire green armor and had one massive golden eye.

The massive being kneeled down to stare him face to face. Even kneeling though it was still taller than him. One clawed hand grabbed him by the hair and tilted his head back to stare at the golden eye. The thing had stared intently at him before drawing a blade on it's back.

There was a hiss as two sharp daggers of red light issued on a device attached to the left arm. His young mind could comprehend a word for the strange weapon other than a daggers. A long sword was drawn from the back. It was single sided like the blades of the Ninja's he watched on the HoloNet. A red light crackled up and down the length of that sinister blade before coating it in the red light.

This would be the one to kill him, he knew it as it drew back its weapons. He spat at the golden eye. A globe of blood and spit stained the eye, but much to his surprise the eye didn't blink but disappeared completely. When it vanished he stared into hard green eyes. It was then that he realized that it he was staring into the eyes of a human…the eyes of a cold killer. Red flashed across his vision. A burning pain erupted on his cheeks, he got one last look at those green eyes before he fell unconscious.

Opening his eyes he shut off the water and let the steam hang in the air like a sauna. He easily recalled what happened when he came to on that fateful day. Him and two other kids one male and the other female had been tossed into a small room with him. The male was white skinned, green eyed, and had blond hair. His name would be Apollo S-103. The female had soft brown skin, brown slanted eyes, and brown hair. Her name would be Eun Kyung, Eun for short, S-300. He closed his eyes again and let the memories flood forth.

The three of them had waited in the storage room before they were rescued by Spartan II's, needless to say the Spartan's expected to find frighten little kids what they got however was different. He had actually gone as far to punch the lead Spartan right in the helmet…which failed due to the shielding and resulted in a broken hand. Apollo had attacked with a broom, and Eun…well she had rigged several chemicals compounds into a bomb. If it wasn't for the quick actions of one of the Spartan's all three of the kids probably would have died.

When interviewed as why they had attacked the Spartan's the all three of the kids said that there had been a Spartan amongst Covenant ranks. Most naval personal swept this under the rug chalking it up to hysteria and stress. For a awhile the three had thought it was just their imagination until ONI was quick to make them disappear, which had lead all three of them to question this belief. He had quickly formed a friendship with both survivors. All three of them had passed the exam to be trained as Spartan III's when ONI had "found a use" or "adopted" them.

The several years that they were stuck on Onyx had been the best years of they're lives. They trained, slept, ate, and covered each others weaknesses. All three of them had an underlying motive besides killing the Covenant. They wanted to find if it was possible that a Spartan had tuned traitor, and make him pay.

The hope of finding this anonymous Spartan was soon quelled as the three had been separated after several mission where they had tried to access both Covenant and ONI secret files. He had gone to join the Alpha unit the Four Horsemen to fill in the spot as War. The other two had been incorporated into other teams. ONI had effectively separated the trio.

He didn't know which group the others had been assigned to which made it impossible to contact them. While he was with the Four Horse Men he was forced through some of the most grueling missions against the Covenant. These missions had lead him to Pandora. Pandora contain a mineral that could leap UNSC into a state where it could stand on even ground with the Covenant.

Too bad he committed a sin that would forever stain his soul…and that of humanities as well. One of the saddest parts about that thought was that ONI had covered that mission so deeply that no human would ever know of that atrocity.

Opening his eyes again he stared at the scars upon his wrists and recalled how he had gotten them. In that moment, when he had pressed the activation to the NOVA bomb, he had realized that he had become the very monster that he hunted. The sin of slaying an entire race had stained his conscious. When he was alone he used his combat knife to cut his very wrists. He did the act of cutting the flesh three times on each wrist. If the three other Spartan's and other office personal hadn't appeared at Athena's warning he would have bled out.

This act had immediately pulled out of active duty for several months for psychiatric evaluation. It had been the hardest part of his life. The guilt of destroying an entire world never left him for a second during his three month stay on some ONI holding facility on an unpopulated UNSC controlled world. In that time he was visited by both the Spartan III trainer Lieutenant Commander Kurt and Special Tactics Operations trainer Abbadon. Each had spent a week away from Spartan training to talk with him. It was rather surprising given the need for active Spartan's.

"We need every Spartan we have in this war." Kurt had said to him one time while they were talking.

He had responded by saying "Yeah we do. So leave me along and go train some." It was the only time that he had back talked to one of the men that he admired. Granted that wasn't much of an outburst, but among Spartans' that spoke volumes of emotion.

In the end however he had recovered in recovering what most Spartan's had lost, his humanity. From what he learned what it meant to be inhuman he had known what it had meant to value life. The psychiatrists had cleared him for active duty, but the higher ups were still unsure of his stability so they sent him on an easy security/spy detail. It was on this mission that he had faced the very forces of hell, and the repercussion's of his actions. One of the Navi had gone to hell out of rage at the Spartan that had destroyed Pandora. That Navi was so twisted with rage that it had come one of the demons. On his second tour through hell he had confronted his demon both physically and mentally. He had come to terms to his deed, accepting that it was the best course of action. For some reason that he could not fathom, even though he had come back battered and broken, he felt at peace after going through hell. Which sounded rather ironic after thinking about it. Now he was on his way to Earth to help whatever fledgling forces of the UNSC remained.

Taking a towel off a hanger he began to dry his body off. When he was done he wrapped it around his waist and exited the bathroom. The change in temperature of the bathroom to his room was apparent upon the mist that formed around his body as it cooled. Jordan paused to take a look at a shelf that was dedicated to his many accomplishments. Death had called it his trophy case.

Several Elite helmets sat upon there rows of the shelf. Row one held the horn of the demon that he had helped Zuka and several other Elites to kill. The second row was filled with four helmets of the red Major Elites that he had found worthy fighters. Above that were a mixture of the black and white of the Covenant Special Operations division. On the top row alone by itself was the shinning gold of a Zealot head piece. That particular Elite was the only one that he fought that could have taken on a Spartan II alone and might win. Almost all of the scars on his body had come from that particular fight. Besides the Elite's martial prowess the only thing that truly surprised him were it's dying words "It's a shame we could not have been brothers."

The hand not holding the towel drifted to his midsection where he bore a scar where the Elite's two pronged blade had pierced him. When he had gotten back to UNSC controlled space the Doctor's had said it was a damn miracle that the blade hadn't severed his spine. They had said that if it wasn't for the gap in the Covenant's Energy sword he would be in a wheel chair.

"It's a shame." he muttered aloud.

"You do know I'm still in the room right?" Athena said aloud.

"Yeah." he responded in some what dark tone at being interrupted.

"So how much longer till we reach Earth?"

"We will be there in one hour."

"One hour…how long did I sleep?" the Spartan asked somewhat stunned.

"You slept for about nineteen hours." the Avatar said some what impressed by how long he slept.

His own face was contorted in shock before he focused on the mission on hand. "So how many Spartan's have been called back to Earth for this final hurrah?"

"Spartan II teams Black and Gray. For Spartan III teams Four Horsemen, Bug Hunter, Glaive, and that's odd…"

"What is it?" he asked without much interest as he began to put on the plain grey clothes of the UNSC.

"The last team name is team Ravager…"

The Spartan stopped with shirt halfway over his head. The situation in itself would have been comical if it wasn't for the seriousness of the matter. When the Spartan finally got a hold of himself he put his shirt on.

"Ravager huh? Well I guess it's about time we get the group back together." he said calling back memories of his teammates. Now the question remained. Why were they being called back together again after these many years?

"Athena, lift the lock. I'm suiting up."

"About damn time." the A.I. said with a devilish smile.

I know the proluge kind of sucked, but I am doing this to set up for most of the story. The timeline of this story takes place during Halo 3. Oh, if you are unfamilar with the origin of this story I recommend that you read the Halo Doom Crossover titled Hellstorm.