The Darkness I Call Home

2014

1845 Hours

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

Onboard AWACS Call Sign EAGLE EYE

   Airman First Class James Conlon was bored. The kind of boredom that incites lunatic behavior in otherwise sane men. The twenty two year old had deployed over Afghanistan three times, now here he was, stuck on

some gaggle-fuck training op in the middle of nowhere.

   "Conlon?" The pilot's voice shattered his torpor, causing the young Airman to jump about half a foot spilling his coffee all over the floor. The radar operator across from him, A1C Jessica Martin suppressed a chuckle, mirth shining in her eyes as she flipped him a thumbs up. Goddamnit

   "Yes Sir?"

   "Check the calibration on the bubble, I think something wiggled loose, I'm getting static"

   "Wilco sir" Grumbling to himself, Conlon keyed up the radome diagnostics, the screen looked clear.

   "Sir scope is clean" The moment the words left his mouth a blur appeared and morphed into a blob of massive size, "Disregard sir. I confirm unknown contact bearing one-seven-five degrees northwest, distance fifty-five miles."

   "Roger, will relay to the fleet"

   Now Conlon was all business, "Martin? give me a tally on our air"

   Martin nodded, a steely look in her eye, "We've got air stacked at five, ten and fifteen thousand feet tasked to intercept the contac- Holy Shit! WHAT IS THAT?!, Right side viewport! Two o' clock!"

Conlon jumped at the abject terror in Martin's voice, craning his head to get a better look.

"Oh My God..."

"....CNN is Bringing you live coverage of the Naval Blockade in the

Pacific Ocean, The United Nations has convened an emergency session...

They are urging people to remain calm..."

"Breaking news from the site of the anomaly, something is

happening...a bright flash and a tremendous explosion...Military on

high alert...we will keep you updated"

"First Contact has been made...Race of Sentient Equines...No I'm not

kidding Charlie, Their leaders are asking to meet at the U.N. Get

everyone on this, now"

"Yes Mr. President"

0600 hours

New York City

   Brian Coates had the kind of hangover that could kill a man, his green eyes were bloodshot and his short brown hair was sticking out at all angles. The wiry Deputy Marshal was hanging half in half out of the shower when his cell phone rang. He groped blindly around the sink where he'd left it, every blast of the bass ridden ring tone sending waves of pain and nausea shooting through him.

   "Hello?"

   "Brian?"

   The volume made him wince, one eye twitching as a fresh wave of pain blew through his head "Jesus Ken, not so loud man"

   Kenneth Rooker was Brian's team leader and one hell of a guy. After fifteen years in the Marine Corps, Ken had been offered a position with the Marshals Service and readily accepted. After a short tour as an Investigative Deputy, Ken had tried his hand at SOG (Special Operations Group) Selection and passed with flying colors. At thirty eight he still had a long way to go before retirement and relished his position as a SOG team leader.

   Brian was no slouch in the experience department either. He came from a small town in Wyoming, the son of cattle  farmers. At the tender age of seventeen, full of loathing for the small town life and struck with patriotic fervor in the wake of the 9/11 attacks he'd enlisted in the Army, completing jump school at FT. Benning and Ranger school thereafter. He spent the next six years in the Ranger Regiment, deploying several times to such choice locales as Afghanistan and Somalia, He'd made the decision not to reenlist and returned to Wyoming. Bumming around his hometown for a few weeks, he came to the

attention of the local Marshals Recruiter.

   The rest as they say, is history.

   "Rough night brother?"

   "Eat me, I don't know how you do it, we drank around the same"

   "With age comes experience my son, look man you need to shoot some

coffee and get down here, the Director wants everyone on deck,

something big happend while you were out"

   That got Brian's attention "Any idea what?"

   "Not a one, they just told me to get everyone together, how long

before you can get here?"

   Brian's head was pounding, he felt like death, but this was what he lived for "Give me thirty, tops"

   "Rog' I'll see you then brother"

Twenty six minutes and three cups of coffee later Brian pulled into the field office parking lot, it looked more like an office building than the operations center for one of the most elite units in the Governments arsenal. Ken was waiting out front for the first time since they'd known each other, he looked worried.

   "What's up boss?"

  Ken shook his head, the worried look never leaving his face "The Director's here"

   "What?" Brian was shocked, it was like getting a visit from God, it didn't just happen, something was very wrong. "He have any insight?"

  Ken scoffed" Nah, I asked, but he said it would be better if we had everyone together, lets head inside, everyone's waiting"

   Brian followed Ken through the double doors and across the main lobby, his mind racing. What could be so important that the Director of the Service made an unannounced visit at six in the morning? His internal monologue fell silent as he and Ken walked into the team room, half the guys were geared up, the other half had obviously been interrupted. Brian caught snatches of conversations as he made his way to the front row of seats, none of it sounded good. At the front of the small stood Brett Wilson, Director, U.S Marshals Service. A man of fifty-five, his grey hair slicked back, he had spent thirty years in

Law Enforcement and during that time set the standard for not to be fucked with, the man was a legend.

   He cleared his throat and the room fell silent. "Now that we're all here we can begin, gentlemen I'm going to get right to the point, and put the speculation to rest, at 0445 hours this morning elements of the Navy's Fifth Fleet made contact with an

extraterrestrial intelligence" There was a moment of disbelieving silence, Brian was stunned but overcame it, it was his job to deal with extraordinary situations and this definitely fell under that umbrella. He raised his hand and the Director nodded in his direction.

   "Hostile sir?"

   "Negative, communication has been established, they're peaceful"

Ken was the next to speak "That's why we're here, isn't it sir?"

Director Wilson nodded "Their leaders have requested an audience with the U.N, the President will also be in attendance to make a formal announcement. Your team is going along to back up the security details already in place and safeguard the alien leadership, the media got wind of this before we could clamp down, I don't need to tell you how bad it could get if someone took a shot at them" he let the implications hang. "You're wheels up in fifteen, godspeed gentlemen"

Brian was on his feet and heading for the arms room, his mind going a mile a minute Peaceful aliens huh? he thought, Could be worse... he shivered involuntarily as his ex's face popped into his head out of nowhere...

Twenty minutes later Brian, Ken and the rest of their six man team were whipping through the air over the city on the skid seats of an OH-6 "Loach", the nimble little helo was used extensively by Law Enforecement and Special Operations communities. Brian silently surveyed the area as they passed over the Verrazano Bridge heading for the U.N building. To his left and right were Raymond Wojinski, a ten year veteran of Navy Special Operations and Carter DeWitt, a recent

addition to the team. DeWitt's baby face and goofy smile might've fooled some into thinking he was harmless, in reality he was a deadly marksman and a seven year veteran of Air Force Special Tactics.

   On the other side of the bird sat Ken, Michael Hosler a former Ranger from Brian's old unit and Tyler Roberts, who had worked his way from civilian to SOG operator in just four years, an unheard of feat. The team stayed silent on the way in, each of them trying in their own way to come to grips with what had transpired. Brian was lost in thought, wondering what the aliens would be like, if their peaceful intentions really were peaceful...and could humanity fight them if it came down to that.

   He was shaken out of his reverie by the pilot's voice "Thirty second guys" Brian looked at the two men sitting next to him and held up three fingers, they both nodded, he pulled the t-shaped charging handle on his HK 416, letting it slam forward, chambering a round. Directing his gaze to the helipad situated on the roof of the U.N building he saw the figure of a man, waiting for them, the helo's tail dipped as the pilot flared ten feet from the roof, as soon as the skids touched the

team was out and moving quickly towards their one man welcoming committee. the man met them halfway holding his hand out to Ken.

   "Greg Mitchell, State Department"

   Ken shook the man's outstretched hand "Ken Rooker, Marshals Service"

   Mitchell pointed at the rest of the team "This everyone?"

   "Yeah, we're it, where are our Principals?"

   Mitchell nodded "They're waiting for you downstairs, I'll show you the way, brace yourselves, their appearance may be a bit of a shock" without another word he turned on his heel and headed for the roof access door. Brian caught Ken's eye and raised an eyebrow, Ken shrugged and followed after Mitchell.

   Brian was more apprehensive than he was willing to let on at the prospect of being in the same room with aliens, another part of him was giddy at the idea, his thoughts were cut short as they approached the fifth floor, Mitchell opened the door and led the team into the lavish hallway beyond. Brian noted the bulletproof windows and reinforced doors as he walked down the hall, Mitchell led them to a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" and knocked twice "Your Majesties?"

   Much to Brian's surprise a soft musical female voice replied, in perfect English "Yes? Is that you Gregory?"

   "Yes ma'am, our security detail has arrived" Mitchell replied

   Brian looked at a visibly stunned Ken and mouthed "They speak English?!" Ken just looked bewildered.

   Again the female voice replied "Please show them in"

   Mitchell turned and addressed the team in a hushed voice "Okay guys,the way they look may be jarring but remember they're harmless, ready?" the team nodded in unison "Alright" he opened the door in one swift motion and Brian was struck with how big the room was, easily the biggest one in the entire building if the blueprints were to be

believed.

Here we go he thought as he followed Mitchell inside

   "Highness?" Mitchell called out upon seeing the bedroom was empty

   "In here Gregory" the soft voice called back, the group hooked around the corner into the living room and Brian's fear evaporated, along with every thought in his head, save for one.

Holy shit.

Standing by the large bay window looking out over the city and bathed in the orange glow of the sunrise, clad in gold regalia, was a...Horse, but like no horse Brian had ever laid eyes on. About five feet tall at the shoulder and a purer whit than he'd ever seen, it's-Her eyes he corrected were large, but not in an unpleasant way,and colored a deep magenta. She had what looked like wings tucked against her sides and a horn about eight inches in length protruding from her forehead, it was a surreal experience.But the part Brian couldn't reconcile was her mane, it was tricolored: Light blue, green and pink, it billowed as if caught by the wind despite the fact there wasn't a breeze to be found. She smiled a small beatific smile that reached her eyes and radiated peace and love like all was right with the world. She was...Beautiful was the only word Brian could find to describe her, a feeling of comfort washed over him and he found he was smiling like an idiot. The rest of

the team wasn't faring much better.

   Mitchell smiled a knowing smile "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Princess Celestia, Diarch of the Sovereign Nation of Equestria"